Adaptation
by The-Suburban-Guy
Summary: AU where both John and Mary died in the fire and Dean and Sam were raised normally. As far as they are concerned the supernatural doesn't exist. That is, until Sam turns 23 and suddenly starts having premonitions… Will feature some additional characters as it goes on-expect a long read folks, I'm already at chapter 17 on this and I have a lot more to go!
1. May 5, 2006

**May 5th, 2006**

It was Friday. _Thank God_. Dean sighed as he pulled the car up to the curb. It seemed endless sometimes, but honestly if he didn't do his job, who would? The low brick building's windows glinted in the early sunshine as Dean walked across the pavement and into the main doors.

Most schools tend to look alike, Dean had seen more than enough in his life to say that. This one wasn't too unique. Identical rows of identical desks sat in identical classrooms. Soon it would be teeming with life, but now it was a tomb-silent and empty aside from a handful of others mingling about in the early morning emptiness, muttering about the bad coffee and insurmountable jam in the single functioning Xerox.

And teeming it was. 27 students was the largest class Dean had ever had. Usually there were around 24, but due to budget cuts and a new map for elementary school partitioning Eisenhower Elementary suddenly had an influx with no extra teachers to cover the growth. _Thank God I don't have Gina's class though_, she had 25 students but she also had three with ADHD and two who clearly had something else undiagnosed going on. It was 11:30, which meant third grade was transitioning from lunch to recess while he ate at his desk. Not that Dean wasn't social with the other teachers (he was), but he had a pain-in-the-ass project he had to work on for his masters and he had no time at home to do it. So he sat at his desk and hurriedly typed, praying that _For the love of all that's holy, please just once have this bulky Dell let me back up everything correctly without ruining the first disk_.

Sam glanced at the clock in his office. His report was due in a few days, but he'd manage to get through the files quicker than he had hoped. Normally Hawke didn't accept early work-_he thought it unprofessional-_so Sam decided to sneak out and take a long lunch. After all, he had nothing else to do.

Walking from his office to the college café was always pleasant, even when the weather was dreary or cold (as it had been the past few weeks). Today was mercifully sunnier, but with the wind it was still cold. He ordered his usual and walked back to the anthropology department, bag in hand. As he munched on the salad he glanced at his phone.

_Hey Sammy. You ready for your birthday dinner tonight? Mom said she's making enough lasagna to get you to finally gain an ounce on your skinny butt._

Sam rolled his eyes and cracked a grin. Dean had always been jealous that Sam never had to try too hard to stay in shape, and getting mom to make extra food was something that happened regardless of any suggestions.

_Really? I figured you would've gotten her to make extra mostacciolis, given how you always eat them all before the rest of us even get a chance._

Sam waited for Dean's reply.

_That happened one time! I was ten and you know how good they are!_

Sam shook his head, his hair flopping as he did so.

_You still are ten, or at least act it sometimes._

_Which is why I'm such an awesome teacher!_

_You are. I'll see you tonight at six at mom and dad's._

_See you then._

The Beretta family house was a modest one. Sam and Dean knew the ranch style home well, from the well-worn hardwood floors in the living room to the large backyard where there had once stood their play-fort. It was home.

Dean arrived a bit before six, pulling his car into the driveway. The Celica wasn't terribly new (it was an '01), but it was still a pretty badass car. The black metallic paint glimmered as he parked it in the driveway. Sam was already here-always showing up half-an-hour early-evident by the navy Jetta parked beside his car. As Dean walked up the brick sidewalk he glanced across the street. He swore he'd seen something out of the corner of his eye, but it was probably just someone's dog.

As soon as he rang the bell he braced himself. He was right to do so as both his parents answered the door and greeted him in a family bear-hug. While neither Andrew nor Paula Beretta were particularly tall, they were strong enough to easily lift their over-six-foot son off the ground when they hugged him.

"Hi mom, hey dad." Dead wheezed as his parents put him down.

"Nice to see you, finally!" Paula teased.

"Mom, it's been less than a week since I was here helping dad try to get the bathroom sink to stop dripping. And we had dinner on Sunday after church!" Dean said, clearly playing into his mother's comments.

"I know, but you know I just love seeing you! How's everything been at the school?" She brought out a plate of pretzels as Dean sat on the sofa next to Sam.

"Fine. Pretty much the same as always. Kids are doing well with the research project we have them doing on the different body systems, though a couple are a bit behind-so I'm gonna have to pull them for some support during science." Dean grabbed a few pretzels and munched, despite knowing the onslaught of food that awaited. He turned to Sam, who up to that point had been busy fiddling with his phone, "What's up with you, Mr. 23-year-old?"

"Not a ton. Got finished writing my report on the new excerpts of Gilgamesh the university got, I have a few days left until they're due so I think I might try and work some more on the translation of the alternate tablets."

"Only you could somehow get so wrapped up in dead languages that you actually land a job where it's all you do." Dean quipped.

"Well, it is a gift. I mean, really we both got perfect jobs." Sam said, nudging his brother in the ribs, "I know I could never be a teacher, I didn't get the maturity of a nine-year-old."

Dean scowled, "Earlier you said it was ten."

"Well, maybe if you're lucky."

Before Dean could retort a timer rang in the kitchen, which meant everything was cool enough to eat. The family moved into the dining room where a feast sat. Three different lasagnas sat on the table-each in its own massive pan. Bread, salad, and sides littered the table to the point where there was no spare space beyond the edge of the plates. _Yup, it was a Beretta family dinner._

Sam pulled the Jetta back into the driveway of his house. It had been a long night, and he had eaten enough food to feed a family of four. After a quick shower and change he slipped into bed, looking forward to relaxing and enjoying the weekend ahead…

Sam normally didn't remember his dreams. He assumed he dreamed-_it would be weird not to_-but he didn't really have any idea what they were. So when he woke up in a cold sweat in the early hours of Saturday, he knew something was off.

_A man holding a gun was standing in a bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror._ Sam hadn't recognized the man, but the face was etched in his memory. _He sighed as he pulled the cold metal up to his forehead_. Sam had tried to block out the sound, but the bang followed by a thud were seared into the silence. Sam had felt like vomiting, which is what woke him up.

"Tragic news today as local police found the body of 41 year old Jeff Sadsbury in his apartment in Midland. According to a statement from the Midland Coroner's Office the man died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the forehead. Our thoughts and prayers go out to his family."


	2. May 13, 2006

**May 13, 2006**

Every night a new nightmare, every morning a new death. Each one seemed more horrible than the last. On Thursday Sam had awoken and physically vomited onto his comforter after watching a family of four die in a car accident. When the news reported that the incident had happened less than ten minutes after he had woken up, he threw up a second time, this time ruining an area rug.

_What the fuck is going on? Am I somehow causing people to die? Am I dreaming deaths and making them happen for real?! _Sam anxiously held a cup of tea as he sat in his dining room, staring out the back window into the average-looking fenced-in lawn. _If I tell anyone they'll think I'm nuts, or some sort of super-creative serial killer… _He took a sip, _but I have to tell someone! Maybe Dean?_ Sam bit his cheek. He and Dean were relatively close; having grown closer as they grew up, but they weren't exactly best friends. Dean was an athlete and insanely focused on his job, which usually meant that he had no free time to hang out. Even as kids the age gap had meant that Dean had other friends. _It's worth a shot…_

Sam pulled out his phone and dialed Dean's number, surprisingly getting an answer, "Hey, what's up?"

Sam hesitated, _how the hell do you say 'I think I'm killing people with my dreams?', _"I wanted to see if you could hang out. Mark's out of town on business and Linda's busy with Tim getting ready for their baby so I don't have any of my regular weekend go-tos available."

"Always the back-up." Dean smirked, knowing well enough it wasn't meant maliciously, "Well, you're lucky, they cancelled my rugby game this afternoon so I'm free. What do you want to do?"

"Maybe lunch?"

"If you're buying. Teachers salaries don't pay for much." Dean quipped.

"I'll buy dessert." Sam offered, well aware of Dean's weakness.

"Alright. I'll text you in a bit, I've gotta go, Duncan needs a spotter."

Gert and Cal's Diner was a small greasy spoon on the edge of Lawrence. The silver 1950s building had a certain charm to it, but the real appeal was the food. Everything was soaked in butter or lard-and it was delicious. Even the normally health-conscious Sam salivated when entering the undeniable aroma that seeped out of the kitchen.

It was a bit before three when the two sat down at a booth in the back of the half-empty diner. A waitress gave them menus, and Dean gave her a wink as the brothers started paging through the options.

"I definitely won't have to take any insulin tonight with this menu…" Sam muttered, noticing that everything was loaded with sugar in addition to being saturated in fat and butter.

"How is that going?" Dean asked, looking up from the menu. Sam had recently been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and had been struggling with maintaining everything as a result.

"Better, thankfully they finally got my dosage worked out. Being a giant doesn't make it easy on them." He joked, knowing the many struggles that came with being tall.

"Good." Dean nodded, even if they weren't super close, Dean still did care quite a bit about his younger brother's health and well being.

"So-I'm going to say something and I want you to promise not to judge me." Sam said, the anxiety visible in his eyes.

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Okay…" _If he's gay I totally called it._

"I'm having visions of people dying and it's happening not long afterward. I know I sound crazy, but it's really happening." Sam whispered, checking to make sure no one else nearby would hear.

Dean's eyes widened, "How often are you having… visions?"

"Every night. Last night was a guy who got cut in half by a malfunctioning elevator."

"Aside from insulin, is there any other medications you're on?" Dean asked, _okay. Maybe something's reacting with that and causing weird dreams. Dad got some messed up dreams when they switched his anti-depressants a few years ago._

"No. Dean, this isn't some messed up fever dream. It's some weird ESP type thing."

"ESP? Like Madame Cleo?" Dean was incredulous.

"No. Yes. Maybe? Look," Sam inhaled, "spend the night with me and I'll prove it. One night."

"Fine. But if weird shit happens I'm blaming you."

Sam woke up at 2:47 am and grabbed the trashcan he'd started keeping next to his bed. This one had been the worst yet. Dean was by his side holding the basket within seconds, gently rubbing his brother's back as he looked on in concern. After Sam finished retching into the wicker basket he wiped off his mouth and looked over at Dean.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"A little girl-she was…" Sam held back another wave of nausea, "…a man killed her. I watched him do it."

Dean was silent, sitting beside the bed as he looked in his brother's watering eyes. _Shit. He really thinks this is going to happen and he has something to do with it. _"Sammy, get some sleep. In the morning I bet everything will be fine."

"Dean, every time I see someone die it happens. Doesn't that mean there's something wrong with me?!"

"Look, it could be a coincidence. I guarantee in the morning nothing will be in the news. It's just some freaky patterns your brain is coming up with or something… Get some sleep and it'll all be over soon."


	3. May 14, 2006

**May 14, 2006**

When Sam awoke Dean had the news on. He hesitantly entered the living room, confident that his horrible memory would be replaying before him, like all the other deaths he somehow caused.

Dean muted the television as he turned to face Sam, "I've been watching the news for almost an hour. No reports of missing kids or deaths. I told you it was all in your head." Dean turned around to face his brother, who was paling as he watched the television. "Sammy, what's wrong?"

Sam pointed at the television; a man was being led in handcuffs out of a suburban home. Dean un-muted the TV, "…Richard Watts, age 47, murdered his wife and three children early this morning. Their bodies were found in the living room. Forensic analysis has concluded that all but one of the children were killed using blunt force trauma, with the youngest being suffocated…"

Dean turned to Sam turning off the television, "You saw him do that?"

"I watched as he suffocated his daughter with a plastic bag." Sam's eyes were dark and heavy as he looked at Dean. "It's not my imagination, it's not a coincidence. Something is going on."

"Okay. I promise we'll figure this out. Maybe there are other psychics out there-real ones-and one of them can help." Dean suggested, his face contorted with worry as his brother numbly stared at the floor.

For as large as Lawrence was there weren't many psychics. Dean had called a handful to check if there were any even remotely _not-totally-a-crock-of-shit_, and the only one that could even correctly guess any basic information about him was twenty minutes away in a part of town he'd never even been near. When he finally managed to get some food in his catatonic gigantor brother Dean dragged him to the Celica and drove to the woman. _Hopefully she was good enough to get Sam to stop worrying and blaming himself for these random deaths. Otherwise a physiatrist is next._

Missouri Moseley's house wasn't too impressive from the outside. If it wasn't for the small sign in the window proclaiming her a psychic it would've been easy to just assume it was another ordinary house in the row of brick homes. Dean walked in through the front door and rang the small bell on the wall that was labeled, 'Pull Me'. Sam was close behind, still mostly out-of it.

Dean leaned against the wall as he waited. He noted the peeling wallpaper and musty odor in the air, and hoped they were out of there fast-_because this place is in need of some serious upkeep_.

"Like you live in Buckingham Palace!" A voice shouted from the other room as a blind woman entered the room, her arms crossed.

"What?" Sam said, finally stirring from his depressed stupor long enough to realize that the comment made no sense.

"Your brother thinks that I need to do some redecorating, apparently." She said, "Or am I mistaken, Dean?"

Dean was silent a minute, surprised at the woman, "Uh, sorry… I didn't…"

"You didn't say it-I know. And you're working out, 'how the hell does this old black lady know what I'm thinking'. Well, I'm the real deal, so get your butt in here and we can get started." She shuffled toward a parlor at the back of the house as Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam and the two hesitantly entered the velvet-draped room.

The parlor was not large, nor was it much to either Sam or Dean's decorative tastes. But given that the woman seemed to know their thoughts Dean decided to avoid thinking about how he didn't care much for the décor. "So… not that I don't believe you, but it is possible you could just be really good at guessing. I'm thinking of a baseball player."

"It's Tom Tresh." She said flatly.

Dean's eyebrows shot upward as his eyes widened. _There was no way in hell she could guess that_.

"Now that _you_ believe me, _I_ believe there's some reason why you came here." She said, turning to Sam, "And given how you've been thinking about how much you hate yourself basically the entire time you've been here, I think it might be something to deal with you."

Sam looked up, eyes bloodshot as he sighed a ragged breath, "I'm killing people with my mind. I'm dreaming that people die in these god-awful ways and then it happens."

She frowned, "Honey, you're not killing anyone. You're just seeing the future-admittedly not the best parts of it-but the future nonetheless."

"What?" Dean said, turning to face Sam, "Why is he suddenly all _Minority Report_?"

"Your brother's special… I don't know why it's happening now, only that it's something supernatural that is now part of who you are." She paused, "But, as a general rule, seeing only the bad isn't a great sign-usually that kind of thing comes from a demonic source…"

"Demons?" Sam bristled at the mention, "How? I'm Catholic, I go to confession, I do all the rites…"

"Child, demons are much more than in the bible, and they certainly can do more than you think possible."

"Okay, I've heard enough for now. The point of this was to help him, not make him suddenly think he's possessed. Thanks, but goodbye." Dean pulled Sam as he got up, but Sam resisted.

Sam shot Dean a glare as he remained seated, turning to Missouri as Dean huffed, "What exactly can they do-and what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, if I were you I'd look up a fire at 174 Raven Drive. Then I'd give a friend of mine a call. He can help." She held out a piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it, "Just tell him I told you to call."

An hour later Sam had convinced Dean to go to the town records and look up the fire. Lawrence city hall was an annoyingly winding maze of corridors as a result of decades of additions and renovations. By the time the two brothers had gotten to the records department they'd already trekked through accounting, city planning, and a rather irate meeting of the historical society. A woman with blonde hair sat at the desk, idly flipping through a magazine as she glanced up at the footsteps.

"Hello-I'm Dean Winchester, I called earlier about the records for 174 Raven Drive?" Dean smiled, laying the charm on thick.

The woman smiled, taken to the handsome diversion from her otherwise boring afternoon, "Yes! You called earlier, give me just a moment, I pulled the files for you earlier." She stood up and walked-well, honestly it was more of a strut-to get the file from a cabinet on the far side of the room.

"Here you go. If you have any questions my personal number is on the card. I'd _love_ to help…" She winked at Dean as he nodded politely and the two went to find somewhere quiet to look over the documents.

An empty reading room on the third floor provided a sufficiently private place to peruse the file. The documents weren't too extensive; with the records only going back to the home's construction in 1963 the file was pretty light.

"174 Raven Drive, 3 bedroom-2 bathroom-multi-story single unit residential structure. Constructed June 19, 1963 as part of the 'Walsh Estates'…" Dean muttered, skimming the records. He flipped ahead a few pages. _A few permits for various additions… Then a deed transfer_. Dean tilted his head, "Property sold to John and Mary Winchester, September 12, 1978."

Sam looked up from his small stack of papers-mostly property permits, "What's up?"

"Winchester… I swear that name is familiar."

"Yeah. It's a gun." Sam said, turning back to his pile.

"Yeah, I guess." Dean frowned as he continued reading.

Sam glanced at his stack_, yet another permit-this one for a new roof, then a fire report?_

"November 2, 1983: 174 Raven Drive, Lawrence caught fire in the early morning between the hours of two and three AM. Police and fire responded to the scene when the four-year old son of homeowners John and Mary Winchester awoke neighbors. Dean Winchester, along with his infant brother Samuel were spared the blaze. The fire engulfed the upper floor where the bodies of the two parents were found. Investigations have been unable to determine cause, but fire originated in second-floor nursery near the roof-line. Fire was controlled before it spread to neighboring residences. Property has been condemned and will be demolished on December 14th by order of fire marshal." Sam looked up from the paper-"Dean…"

Dean was shaking his head vigorously as he closed his eyes, "No. No. No. No. No, Sammy! There's no way that's us…"

"Dean they have our names!" Sam pointed at the paper.

"Don't you think mom and dad would've told us?!" Dean said, "Besides, even if it was-"

"'Even if it was'-it might explain my weird-ass powers!" Sam whispered angrily, finger quotes around Dean's phrase.

"But it's not, so drop it! It was a mistake to go to that psychic, let's just call it a day and get lunch somewhere. Okay?" Dean bargained, not in the mood for Sam's continued self-loathing and newly found paranoia.

"Fine." Sam huffed, clearly not letting the matter drop.


	4. May 20, 2006

**May 20, 2006**

"Dang it!" Dean shuffled across the linoleum as he tried to reach the last bolt holding the old garbage disposal in place. The twelve-year old model in the Beretta family kitchen had finally had enough Italian cuisine and had decided to only make irritating gurgling sounds instead of functioning properly. As a result Dean and Sam were helping Dad install a new one while Mom was out playing bridge with her friends.

"Need me to adjust the light?" Sam offered, angling the flashlight upward, and in the process blinding Dean.

"Gah! No!" He swatted the light away, frustrated. "I've got it…" He managed to loosen the last bolt and plucked out the old disposal, only for it to spew over a decade's worth of disgusting residue all over his hair and face._ Oh come on!_

An hour later the new disposal was installed and working, and Dean desperately needed a shower. The old disposal's gunk was mostly off of him, but his hair reeked. "Dad, mind if I use the shower? I wanna get some of the junk in my hair out of my hair."

"Sure. Just make sure you don't use your mother's good towels!"

"I won't, I learned that last time!" Dean called back as he closed the bathroom door and cranked the shower to its highest heat setting.

_Alright Sam, don't pussy out now…_ "Hey dad, can I ask you something?" Sam leaned against the counter, his minimal confidence in his question barely helped by the fact that Dean had just left the room.

"Sure, what's up?" Andrew replied, putting the last of the tools away in his toolbox.

"Am I adopted?"

"I first met Mary Winchester at a church bake sale. The Winchesters weren't Catholic, but I knew them well enough from different social functions. I recognized her and introduced myself. She was a lovely woman, kind and smart-and at the time she was expecting her second child, that was you Sam…" Paula smiled, "She was so happy, looking forward to having another bundle of joy in her life. We hit it off and I invited her over for lunch, which she gladly accepted. A few months later she had Sam and she made your father and I the godparents… After the fire it was revealed that Dean's godparents-a distant cousin of John's had passed-and that no one else in the family had decided to step forward, so we offered to look after you."

"You were nearly catatonic when we first brought you home." Andrew said, turning to Dean. "You didn't speak at all for almost a month, and even then, only after a fair bit of therapy. We guessed that you repressed everything before the fire because when you started talking again you never asked about before."

"We didn't mean to lie to you. We love you just as much as your birth parents would have, and I promise you that we had meant to tell you…" Paula trailed off.

"But we never really knew how to." Andrew finished.

The room was silent for a moment before Dean exhaled deeply, "Thank you. I want you to know that this doesn't change anything. You're still my parents and I love you." He turned to face Sam, "You couldn't leave well enough alone. I'm pretty pissed off at you right now. I told you to drop it." He shook his head, "I can't deal with you right now-I'm heading out." And with that he shut the front door a fair bit harder than usual.

"Dean, I know you didn't want me to dig into things, and I'm sorry. But I just want to know the truth… please pick up…"

Sam clicked the phone shut, it was the eighth message he'd left and Dean hadn't responded. He was back at home now, sitting in the living room. He exhaled as he sat and fingered a piece of paper, picking it up off the table. The number wasn't local-but there weren't many other options-_I need answers_.

"Hello?" A man's voice said on the other end of the line.

"Hello, my name is Sam Beretta and I was told you might be able to help me."

"Who gave you my number?"

"A woman called Missouri Moseley." Sam said, hesitantly.

"Alright, what's going on?"


	5. May 25, 2006

**May 25, 2006**

"It happened again last night. This time it was a man who was shot in a mugging. I swear I could almost feel the pain as he bled out… When I woke up it was 2:46, the police report listed the time of death as 3:08…" Sam leaned against the sofa as he sighed. _Not getting a decent night's sleep for a few weeks really destroys your energy._

"Well, it looks like you're seeing stuff a bit further out. When you first started the deaths were almost immediately after you woke up." The gruff voice responded.

"Even so, I still have no idea why it is I'm seeing this stuff. I'm not okay with getting woken up by a violent death I can't stop in the middle of the night. I'm on-edge right now, to put it lightly. Seriously Bobby, you know this stuff, what's going on?"

"I wish I could tell you Sam. I've been looking into it all week and so far the only stuff I have is unlikely at best…" Bobby trailed off.

"Well, at least give me something."

"I know you aren't possessed-that much was proven when you could repeat an exorcism over the phone-but have you ever been in contact with a demon? They're typically the source of this kind of thing."

"No!" Sam almost shouted, disgusted at the idea-and also a little frightened.

"Sorry-I didn't mean to strike a nerve-but if it isn't that then the only other options are that you're somehow under a curse. In which case I'd need to perform some sort of counter-hex to break it."

"Okay, let's try it." Sam hoped it was a simple solution.

"Hold on now. You do realize how intense it is to break a hex, right? Not only would I have to go through a whole purifying thing, you'd also be in a trance for a while-and I'm not exactly comfortable with trying to do that over the phone." Bobby sounded nervous, as if he'd tried it before to not-so-stellar results.

"Okay, so I'll meet you at my place. I don't mind the company. If it stops these dreams anything is okay with me."

"Sam, while I appreciate the offer, I'm not really able to do it at your place. Depending on the hex there's a lot of specific ingredients-and unless you know exactly what's causing it-it would be nearly impossible for me to bring them all to you. I have an entire room in my house dedicated to them." Bobby turned in his chair to glance at the shelves full of vials and boxes that lined his study. _It is a helluva collection_.

"Okay, so not to intrude, but couldn't I just come to your place and have you do whatever you need to there?" Sam asked.

"I try to make it a policy that people don't know where I live, given my line of work."

"Well, then what do you suggest?" _Because I want to stop hurling every fucking morning._

"I'm not sure. Give me a bit and I'll call you back, okay?"

"Fine." Sam sighed, hanging up. He stared at the dark wood paneling on the far wall and closed his eyes, wishing he was 22 again and that he didn't wake up every night to some Quentin Tarantino level ultraviolence.

Bobby called back half an hour later, relenting to Sam visiting. "But keep it brief and don't touch anything if I don't okay it. I have a lot of dangerous supernatural stuff and I don't want you somehow worse off than you are right now."

"But you think you can do it?"

"I can try."

"Bobby, as long as there's some way to break this hex, I'm in…"

"Well, I said I can try-I don't know exactly what's going on, and it won't be easy…" He hedged.

"I'm there, regardless. What's the address?"

Dean continued eavesdropping from the entry. He had stopped in to check on Sam, _Because honestly the kid looks terrible and could probably use some support right now with the crap he thinks he's seeing because of some weird "psychic powers". Even though there's no way on earth that could ever happen…_

As Sam hung up Dean walked in, acting as if he hadn't just heard his brother promise to meet some random stranger in another state to overcome an imagined issue _in what clearly sounded like a cult meeting_. "Hey, thought I'd stop in and check on how you were. You weren't looking great last time, and I wanted to see if you stopped having the weird dreams."

Sam was silent a minute before he responded, "Yeah, they're mostly gone. It was probably just some weird reaction to my meds…" It was obvious to Dean that his brother was lying. Sam had an obvious tell, he always looked up slightly when he lied. Well, obvious to Dean at least.

"Good. Glad to hear that." _Don't lie to me Sammy. _

"Yeah, it was probably nothing."

"I was thinking about going camping next weekend. Weather should be nice. I figured Captain Nature-Boy would love to join in. You could bring Sarah…" Dean shrugged, _please Sammy…_

"That's okay. She doesn't really like camping that much, and honestly we haven't even been together that long-so I wouldn't want to ruin it by going on some camping trip."

"Yeah, makes enough sense…"

"So, anything else?" Sam crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall.

"No, I guess not…"

"Well, if you want to stick around you can, if not, that's cool too."

"I guess I'll see you around. Just wanted to stop in and check everything was okay."

"Everything's great. Thanks."

"Cool. See you at Mom and Dad's."

"I'll be there."


	6. May 28, 2006

**May 28, 2006**

Dean hated lying to his parents and saying he had to go to a conference. Worse yet, he hated having to lie to them because of Sam already lying and saying that he was going with some work friends to a Memorial Day concert. _I swear to God, Sammy, next confession I am cursing you out to Father Daugherty…_

Dean booked a ticket for a flight that would get him to the address he overheard Sam copying down. Hopefully he could intercept his brother before he was wearing a tinfoil hat and praising alien overlords. _No way in hell was Sam Beretta drinking the Kool-Aid!_

The house he arrived at was discomforting, to say the least. The large junkyard was full of rotted and decayed carcasses of vehicles, while the house itself lacked upkeep. It looked like something out of a horror movie. As Dean parked the rental car he heard barking and watched as a large dog barreled toward the car, growling fiercely.

"Easy Fido… Come on, boy… I'm just here to save my brother from whatever crazy cult he got himself into." Dean cautiously stated, eyeing the large dog's many teeth.

The dog didn't respond, simply growling at the car as Dean hesitantly slid toward the passenger door. Before he could sneak out he heard a man's voice.

"Rumsfeld! What ya' got boy?"

_God, if you can manage a miracle, please don't have me die at the hands of some hick cultist in North Dakota…_

A burly man with a beard appeared from around the rotted-out remains of an Edsel. He looked like a mechanic, his clothes were stained with grease and his baseball cap was faded. If it wasn't for the fact that Dean was currently fearing the worst, he would've been the kind of person Dean wouldn't mind talking with. It was always neat to listen to people with mechanical minds describe working on things. Unfortunately, now was not the time to discuss how to rebuild a transmission.

Dean rolled down the window, "Uh… hi? I'm Dean, Sam's brother…"

"Sam's brother? Then why the hell didn't you just come with him?" He seemed skeptical, to say the least.

Dean inhaled sharply; there really wasn't a good answer for that question. It was evident that his lack of reply did not place him in the man's good graces.

"Okay, 'Dean'. Step out of the car." The man's tone made it clear he didn't believe him.

_Well, fuck. I'm going to die at the hands of some hick cultist in North Dakota trying to save my dumbass little brother._ Dean opened the door and was met with a splash of water to the face. He sputtered and blinked a moment before the man nodded.

"Follow me. No funny business or Rumsfeld'll be a lot more bite than bark."

Dean eyed the dog and complied, following the man as he rounded the corner and headed toward the house. After climbing a few ramshackle steps he entered the living room. It was a crowded mess filled with books and papers, and sitting in the middle of it all nursing a mug of tea was Sam.

"Sam? This your brother?" Bobby nodded toward Dean, who was attempting to turn invisible.

Sam looked up from his reading and furrowed his brow, "Dean? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to a conference in Topeka?"

"Yeah, and you were supposed to be at a music festival with some friends from work." Dean replied, his arms crossed.

Sam frowned, "Okay-I guess we both lied. But seriously, what are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't make a mistake and end up joining a cult. I overheard you on the phone the other day-what the hell are you thinking with spells and witches and all sorts of supernatural stuff? You know none of that stuff is real. We'll get you to a good psychiatrist. My friend Don has one that his wife uses, and he sounds really good. Please, come on…" He turned toward Bobby, resolved, "I don't care if you do have an attack dog. I'm leaving with my brother-and I will fight you to take him home."

Bobby's brow arched, "You really care about him, huh?"

"Well, I care enough to make sure you don't screw with his head." Dean quipped despite the fact that he was at least a good bit intimidated by the strange man with a scary dog-and what appeared to be a knife strapped to his leg.

"Alright. Dean, why don't you sit down and I'll explain a few things Sam and I have talked about so far." Bobby gestured toward the couch.

Dean accepted, _Remember, none of what he says is true. This is all brainwashing and I have to stay out of it…_

"Let's begin with the basics. The supernatural is real. Your brother is proof of that. Every creature, beast, and nightmare you ever heard of all exist. Good, decent people never deal with them, and if they do they usually don't live to tell the tale. I hunt those sonsabitches and make sure you two get to live your happy lives in some ticky-tacky suburb in the middle of Kansas unaware of the evil that lurks around every corner. I've been killing for decades and I can say that I know most of what's out there. Your brother, however, is a mystery." Bobby paused, looking at Sam, who seemed immensely nervous.

"Go ahead Bobby, tell him the theory." Sam nodded.

"Your brother is having premonitions. He's seeing deaths well-in-advance. Last night it was almost nine hours ahead of the actual death. Thing is, we have no idea where they are in order to stop them. Also doesn't help that your brother's constantly enduring emotional trauma as a result of watching dozens of people getting killed. From what we can tell it wasn't the work of any magic-we've tried counter-hexes and purification rituals and none of them work. The last one we're going to try is to check for demonic attachment or involvement."

"I'm not possessed or anything, but a demon might have somehow become attached to me or tried marking me for something. If it is that-well, it's a big problem…" Sam stated, looking grim.

Dean pleaded, "Sammy, you aren't attached to a demon. You're having weird dreams and seeing patterns where there aren't any. Just come home and try a therapist or psychiatrist. I'm sure there's something that can help-either a treatment or medication…"

"Dean, for once in your life, trust that something you can't see is real!" Sam yelled.

"I do trust in what I can't see. I have faith in God and I'm fairly sure that's enough. Sammy, you're talking about demonic attachment as if it's a real thing. It's not. This isn't ancient times. That kind of stuff is biblical, it doesn't happen anymore."

"Just let me try this last test, if it fails, then I'm crazy and we can go home." Sam looked Dean in the eye, his biggest puppy-dog eyes present.

"Fine. One test. And I never said you were crazy. Plenty of normal, healthy people go to therapists or psychiatrists."

An hour later Sam was sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of a pentagram-_Which totally isn't sacrilegious…_-as Bobby applied a paste to his forehead and palms. Apparently Bobby was going to try to say some 'incantation'. _And when nothing happens I'm dragging your ass back to Kansas and straight into a councilor's chair!_

As the bearded man spoke gibberish in a foreign tongue Dean felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. It became uncomfortably cold as he watched the lights flicker, then pop as the bulbs in the room shattered. He tried to speak to get Bobby to stop, but it seemed as if his mouth was sealed, he could not open it. He watched in horror as Sam's hands and forehead both started to glow red as the paste released a dark cloud of vapor into the room. Then, as soon as it had started it was over. The room was back to a comfortable 70-odd degrees and his brother was sitting upright, free of paste.

"What the hell just happened?!" Dean stammered, having regained control of his voice.

"Your brother has a demonic influence. But it goes well beyond attachment…" Bobby exhaled.

"What do you mean 'beyond attachment'? What could possibly be more than attachment?" Sam got up and anxiously rubbed his neck.

"I… I've never seen a reaction so strong before aside from vessels. I know you are not one, but I don't know exactly what you are." Bobby shrugged, "I'm going to do some research. Dean, if you wanna stay I only have one guest room, so you'll have to share with your brother."

Dean shot Sam a look that conveyed that _there was no way in hell he was leaving his brother alone with this guy, _then returned to his car to get his stuff. It was going to be a weird few days.


	7. May 29, 2006

**May 29, 2006**

Dean did not enjoy sleeping in strange places. He especially did not enjoy sleeping in strange places with a person he did not fully trust or know in the room next to him. Needless to say Dean didn't sleep much when he finally conceded to just get up. Sam was still in bed, _It would take a meteor strike to wake him up._ So Dean propped himself up on the fold-out cot and flipped through the book he'd brought with him. It was about a guy who sold his soul so he was immortal and had a painting of him age instead. Not a bad read, actually.

It was around seven when Sam got up. Dean had already showered and changed at that point, making sure to avoid Bobby. As it turned out that wasn't too hard, as the man was downstairs working on something all night.

"Morning sunshine, finally decided to get up?" Dean smirked as he watched his big-little brother rub his mane of hair into something resembling his normal style. Sam sent him a pointed look and got up.

"Well, in any case, I'm starving and I'm guessing your friend hasn't made anything-want to get breakfast?"

"Sure, give me a few minutes." Sam yawned as he plodded lazily toward the shower in the attached bathroom.

Fifty-three minutes later the two were seated in the diner of the closest town. It had a charm not much different from Gert and Cal's back in Lawrence. After sitting down in a booth with faded blue vinyl seats Dean started flipping through the menu before he cocked his head, realizing something, and lowered the menu to the table.

"Wait-you didn't have a nightmare last night." He pointed at Sam.

"No, I didn't. I didn't dream at all." Sam said, holding up a small amulet. "Bobby said this would help stop the visions for a while, but it wouldn't get to the root of the problem."

"I told you, a therapist-"

Sam gave Dean the most bitchy bitch-face he'd ever seen. And that included the time when Dean accidentally threw out the only copy of his final paper for 11th grade English.

"Fine." Dean relented, _When we get home Father Daugherty is going to hear one helluva confession._

After breakfast the two returned to Bobby's where the bearded man was waiting for them. "Alright, after some reading and a few phone calls I think I have something…"

"What is it?" Sam asked, hopeful to finally get an answer.

"Yeah, what is it?" Dean asked, _Because if it's some weird shit I am dragging you out of here right now._

"I've already made the solution, all I need to do is add a single drop of blood and we'll know for sure what's going on."

"Woah, there. Blood?" Dean placed his arm in front of Sam, holding him back.

Sam pushed Dean aside, "Knock it off Dean. It's just one drop, and it's not like he's forcing me to." Sam grabbed a pin from the table, then pricked his finger, dropping the red fluid into the dark green concoction on the table.

Immediately the mixture turned bright blue and started boiling. "What the hell?!" Dean shouted, grabbing Sam as the two leapt behind the sofa as the glass shattered.

Bobby stood silent at the other end of the room, silent and solemn. "I was afraid of that happening."

"What? Your junior chemistry set exploding and nearly killing us?!" Dean replied, standing up and helping Sam to his feet.

"No you idjit! I was fearing your brother having demon blood! That's what the test was for!"

Dean was silent a moment before he spoke, "Sammy we're leaving. Get your stuff."

Sam looked at his brother, then at Bobby, then back at Dean, "I…"

"Now!"

"Boy, you might want to stay so I can explain what the hell this means!" Bobby shouted as Dean climbed the stairs.

"I don't want to hear the ramblings of a crazy old guy who is trying to convince my brother he's secretly evil! We're leaving!"

The door to the rental car slammed as Dean peeled out of the junkyard. Sam was in the passenger seat.

"You are not talking to him again. He's clearly deranged and you are in a fragile state right now because of what's going on. I am going to make you an appointment with a therapist. You are going. I love you and I don't want you to end up some nutjob who thinks that the supernatural is real. I don't care if you hate me right now, you need help and I am going to make sure you get it. Real, professional, medically sound help." Dean clenched the steering wheel as he drove. Sam was silent, his head pressed against the glass of the passenger window as the two sped into the mid-afternoon sunshine back toward Kansas.


	8. June 3, 2006

**June 3, 2006**

_Great. I get to waste an afternoon and a couple hundred bucks as a stranger asks me a bunch of personal questions to try and "fix me". I damn well know what's going on… I have demon blood in my system. Which is totally NOT okay. But Bobby says that there's nothing I can do to change that now. And Dean-my overprotective ass of a brother-thinks it's all in my head. _ Sam sighed as he placed his head on the steering wheel as he sat in the parking lot of the medical building where he had an appointment in half an hour. _I'm literally hell spawn. Somehow I'm unclean beyond the normal limits for humans and have literal demon blood in my system. I mean, I could be the fucking Anti-Christ!_ Sam tensed at _that_ thought. _No, I'm not evil. It's just some weird thing. Bobby says there isn't a way to fix it, but I'm not giving up on that. I'm going to fight the dreams and figure out how to get over it. Hell be damned, I'm staying human and not doing any demonic shit! I've been good my entire life, and I'm not changing now._

Sam pulled his head from the wheel and cracked his neck. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

"So I guess you're wondering why I'm here. Well, for one thing my brother made the appointment and made me come." Sam stared at the ecru ceiling as he reclined in the large couch across from the bespectacled woman taking notes. "But, you know what-screw it-you can't legally tell anyone else what I say unless it's a threat to others, so I might as well be honest. Because if you think I'm crazy, I might well be. It's no worse than being part demon after all!" He glared at his own words, "The supernatural is real. My friend Bobby-who is a real person, Dean can vouch for that-is a hunter and he tracks down creatures and monsters to keep us normal people safe. He ran a few tests and found out I have demon blood in me."

The woman adjusted her glasses as she looked up a moment, "Demon blood?"

"Yeah. Apparently its different than human blood. Look, all I know is apparently I have it in me, so that's just something I have to live with right now."

"And this demon blood-does it do anything?" She had flipped to a new page.

"It lets me see into the future, but only glimpses, and only deaths." Sam shivered at the memories etched into his mind.

"Do you know the people who are dying?"

"No. They're just random people. But all the deaths are painful." He exhaled, "I wake up vomiting most of the time. There's a lot of blood usually in the visions, and I don't like that."

"How do you know these deaths are from the future?"

"They usually show up in the news early the next day. I stopped looking after the first few. It helps not to know who they were, somehow it makes the pain less."

The woman adjusted her posture, folding her legs as she repositioned her notepad, "Sam does your family have a history of mental disorders?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but my birth parents have been dead for decades." He looked downward as he mumbled.

"I'm sorry-I didn't mean any offense. But given everything you've been describing I'm concerned you may be experiencing some sort of hallucinations. Given your age and relative health prior to this I am concerned it could be genetic." She placed the pad down. "In any case, I want you to keep a dream journal. Detail everything you see and experience in your dreams. I want you to discuss it with someone you trust. A sounding board can help process what you are experiencing and lessen the trauma it might cause." She ripped off a sheet of paper, "And with your permission I would like to have you start a dosage of risperidone. It's an anti-hallucinogen."

Sam sat in silence thinking a moment before he responded. _Drugs. An anti-hallucinogen. I'm not crazy-but only crazy people don't realize they aren't crazy… Maybe Dean is right and I am just having some mental issues. Bobby could be right too, though. Honestly, they both might be. I could have demon blood and still have mental issues!_ "Okay. I'll try it."

"Good. I'd like to make a follow up appointment in two weeks to discuss your progress with the journal and prescription. If for any reason you start having more vivid hallucinations or start to feel overly tired or depressed, please call my office."

Fourty-eight minutes later Sam looked at the small bottle of pills he had picked up at the pharmacy. The little yellow pills rattled around in the orange bottle as he picked it up. _4 milligrams once a day with food._ _Great. I'm fucking 23 and I already have two long-term prescriptions. Even if I'm not crazy this still sucks._ Sam folded his hands as he sat at the table, gazing out the window into the sun-lit yard. _God, please help me to get through this. I need some serious help. _


	9. June 7, 2006

**June 7, 2006**

Dean stood in front of the classroom full of anxious eyes as the clock steadily ticked toward 3:15. "I want to begin by thanking you all for an amazing year. I know third grade is challenging. It's a big change from second. But you did it, all of you. I'm proud of each and every one of you." Dean smiled as he addressed his class in the final minutes before the last bell of the year, "I want you to remember that you all are the future. You are the generation that will change the world. My generation, we've screwed up a lot. There's war, hunger, massive resource shortages, and even with the good economy there's still a great disparity between the poorest and richest people in our nation, let alone the world. But you guys have the intelligence, the determination, and the strength to make this world a better place. Never, ever underestimate yourselves. If you put your mind to something and keep moving forward, you will do great things. Some of you might be doctors that cure cancer, scientists that get us to foreign planets, writers and artists who make masterpieces generations will appreciate and emulate… But regardless of what you decide to do, I know you all can and will be amazing people. So as our year together concludes, I want to wish you all a bright summer and a bright future. Congratulations third grade, I hope your dreams become reality."

It was almost five when Dean finished packing up the last of his supplies into the back of the Celica. He'd stayed to chat with some of the other staff and enjoy the free snacks that were in the teacher's lounge for the last-day party. Finally he had a few months off from his masters and could relax. He exhaled as he started the car; _Today was a pretty good day._

A broken window is rarely a good thing. A broken window with blood on the floor behind it is never a good thing. So when Dean saw that the window of Sam's dining room was broken with a pool of blood on the cream colored carpet he immediately dialed 911 and started searching for his brother. _Sammy, can't I check in on you once and not find out something's wrong? _ The rest of the house seemed in order, aside from the kitchen-a half-eaten plate of eggs sat on the counter, next to a bottle of insulin that had gone warm. _Shit. Okay, Sammy, where the hell are you? _Dean quickly opened the door to the basement, hoping that maybe Sam somehow was down there. _Please, come on…_ The space was empty aside from the washer, dryer, furnace, and handful of boxes sitting in the corner. _Sammy, what have you gotten yourself into?!_

The police arrived shortly after Dean ascended the basement stairs. After a crime scene investigation crew had taped off the blood stain and a handful of detectives got statements from Dean before he left the house and joined his parents on the front lawn. Paula and Andrew both looked worse for wear. _It's amazing how something like this seems to immediately make people look and feel twice their age._

"Mom, Dad…" Dean choked as he embraced his parents.

"It's okay-they'll find him." Paula whispered, placing her hand on Dean's back as she rubbed a small circle between his shoulder blades.

"Come on Dean, there's nothing we can do now. Let's get you home…" Andrew offered a small smile as he placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean nodded as he was led to his car by his father. "Promise me you'll try to get some sleep. I know what happens to you when you get worked up like this, but the police are doing all they can. All we can do now is pray and hope that wherever your brother is there's an angel looking out for him."

Dean's eyes sagged as he sat in the car, "Okay Dad."

"I love you son."

"I love you too."

_God, it's me, Dean Beretta. I'm praying to ask that my brother Sammy gets home alright. I don't know where he is, or why he's gone… But please, wherever he is-protect him. Please put an angel of protection on him-a hedge around him from the evil and danger of the world. I know he's in trouble, and I think it might be because of the whole 'evil demon blood' thing-which is total bullshit-but please keep him safe…_

Dean rolled over to look at the time on the alarm clock in the dingy motel room. It was almost midnight and he'd been praying on and off for nearly six hours. When he started drifting off behind the wheel he decided it was time to get a room for the night, then continue his journey to get his brother back. _First thing in the morning I am going to that sonuvabitch Bobby and getting my brother._


	10. June 8, 2006

**June 8, 2006**

"Wake up!" A hand shook Sam's shoulder. "Come on, man!"

A searing pain ripped through Sam's forehead as he opened his eyes. He's lying on a cold hardwood floor in a dirty building. He guessed it was a house. Without any furniture it's hard to say. A man wearing a plaid button-down over a Nirvana t-shirt is shaking his shoulder. His eyes darted nervously toward the door as he looked down at Sam.

"Where am I?" Sam muttered, wincing at his awakening.

"Fuck if I know. But I'd get moving if you want to live. Some chick's out there killing anyone she can get a clear view of for more than a few seconds."

Sam shifted his weight to lean on his side, "What? How?"

"Sorry I don't have any answers right now, but all I know is that I saw some guy collapse when she just looked at him, another started gushing blood out his nose before he fell over. I'm guessing she can mess with your head and cause aneurysms, but I could be wrong."

"Wait-why is she just killing people?"

"Everyone is. It's like fucking _Battle Royale_ out there. Only everyone's a super-powered freak."

Sam blinked, "You have superpowers?"

"Kinda-all I can do is this." He flicked his wrist and a small flash of fire appeared. "But that's beside the point." He shook his wrist and the flame disappeared, "Since you somehow missed the wake-up call I'll give you the cliffnotes. About an hour ago a guy appeared in the middle of this haunted-ass ghost town and declared himself a demon. He said some different demon guy rounded us all up here and that we were 'special'. Apparently we all have powers because of some demon blood in our system._ Which I totally wanted to find out…_ He wanted to find out who's the strongest and said that the last one standing gets some special honor. That's when a few of the less stable of our cohorts decided to take that as a challenge and started offing everyone in sight. There were probably thirty of us to start; I'd say there's about half that now."

"Jesus…"

"If you believe in that kind of thing, sure." He sighed, "Look, I'm just trying to get the hell out of here. I saw a road when I was running for my life earlier and I figure I might use it to try to get back to my shitty retail job selling knock-off appliances back in Jersey. Didn't expect to find someone here, but I figure I didn't want to let someone else die without at least trying to get outta here." He glanced toward the door again, "Let's get upstairs and find a window, I want to see what's going on out there. I'm R.J. by the way, Randall Joseph Burton for long."

"Sam… Sam Beretta." Sam stuttered as he got up, every fiber of his body screaming that he shouldn't be moving as he hoisted himself onto his feet with R.J's assistance.

"Well Sam, let's hope you're good in a fight because I would love to not die today…" He smiled, clasping Sam's shoulder as he led up the stairs.

Dean didn't even bother knocking when he got to Bobby's. Fifteen years of rugby and twenty of martial arts meant that Dean had a pretty good grasp of what his body could do. A wooden door wasn't too much of a challenge-even with a deadbolt. As he shoulder-checked the door for the third time the hinges released, leaving nothing between the angry brother and Bobby.

"Listen you sonuvabitch! I want my brother, and I swear to fucking Christ almighty I will kick your ass and any other psycho you send after me." Dean roared as he entered the house.

Dean heard a gun click as Bobby stepped out from the doorway to the living room; he had a clear shot on his head. "I don't take kindly to people busting down my front door unannounced. Get the fuck out of here before I have to make a Jackson Pollock." Bobby locked eyes with Dean, his brown challenging Dean's hazel.

Dean charged Bobby before he could manage to get a shot off and landed on top of the older man. He threw the gun well out of reach before pinning him. "Give me my brother." Dean growled, nearly feral.

"I don't know where Sam is!"

"Yeah right. You convince him that there's demons and all sorts of stuff that goes bump in the night to scare him and try to feed on his mental condition. You lured him here once to do-God knows what-before I managed to get here-so where is he this time?" Dean leaned his weight on Bobby's chest, knowing he could break his ribs if he wanted to.

Bobby rocked under Dean's arm and managed to flip him off of him, rolling toward the sofa. He quickly stood up as Dean did, the two men engaged in a stand-off. "I don't have your brother! If he's missing it probably has something to do with the fact that he has demon blood in 'em."

"Yeah, and he's _totally_ not tied up in your basement…" Dean scowled, "I've seen enough episodes of Criminal Minds to know how this ends, so make this easy on yourself. Give me my brother and get the fuck out of my life or I will make sure you're spending the rest of yours behind bars." T_he second I get Sammy and get out of here I'm calling the cops anyway._

"Christ you're dense-"Bobby exhaled, "The supernatural is real you ass! Chances are your brother's special little secret was found out and that's why he's missing. Have you ever considered that maybe there's more to life than just what you've seen?! Demons are real, and I imagine they wouldn't be thrilled about some kid going around with their blood in his system."

"Look. If you think that monsters and ghouls are real, fine. But leave me out of it. Just give me my brother!" Dean charged Bobby, tackling him to the ground and sending a flurry of papers into the air. Bobby retaliated with a quick jab to Dean's jaw, then the two were at it. The next ten minutes were best described as chaotic violence. While neither Dean nor Bobby wanted to inflict serious harm to the other, by the end of the brawl both were worse for wear.

Dean stood up and spat out a gob of blood and saliva as he wiped at a broken lip, "Why won't you just tell me?!"

"Because I don't know where he is! I told you he probably got got by demons!" Bobby responded, cracking his back as he tried to shift an injured shoulder.

Dean sat on the ground defeated. _It's over. Bobby doesn't know where Sam is. He's probably halfway across the country in the back of some creep's van or strapped to a mattress or…_ Dean placed his head in his hands and grabbed his hair as he tried to keep himself together.

"Boy, look, I know you're scared and want to find you brother-but wrecking my house and beating me senseless won't help you do that. I realize you don't think the supernatural is real, but if you want my help I can at least try a few connections to see if anyone's seen your brother or something that might lead to him." Bobby took pity on the man sitting in the middle of his living room trying to hold back tears.

Dean looked up, "Why not?" He looked around at the trashed living room, "Sorry about your house…" He grimaced at the bruise that would surely become a shiner on Bobby's face, "And your face…"

"Dean, I've lived through worse. Not necessarily from a regular pissed off human, but I've lived through worse."

The second story of the ramshackle house had a few windows facing the main street, which allowed a good view of the carnage and ongoing slaughter.

"That's her-the chick who can fry your brain just by looking at you." R.J. motioned toward a blonde wearing a red t-shirt and jeans. She was currently using her powers on a man wearing glasses and a green polo shirt. He was twitching as blood started to trickle from his nose.

"Oh my God…" Sam cringed as he looked away.

"Yeah. It's a bloodbath out there." R.J. responded with hollow eyes, "But if we can hide until dark I figure we can try to skate out down that road." He pointed at a path leading out of the town through the thick surrounding forest, "Maybe we can run into a park ranger or something and get back to civilization… It's a long shot, but I don't have any other ideas."

Sam mulled over the option in his mind. _It'll be harder to see in the dark, so there's a better chance we can escape-but at the same time, it'll be harder to see anyone following us…_ "Okay." He hesitantly replied.

"Good. Now all we have to do is survive the next few hours."

The sun set sometime around 9:20, but Sam and R.J. both agreed it made sense to wait until after twilight to try to escape. The afternoon and evening had been the two of them taking turns resting with the other watching guard, making sure they had enough energy for the trek ahead. As they snuck out of the building and crept toward the road Sam was feeling light headed and dizzy, tell-tale signs his blood sugar was reaching a dangerously low point after an entire day without food or insulin.

They hadn't seen anyone else for a few hours from their second floor vantage point, and as Sam's clock ticked over to 11:00 and they started their hike back towards humanity he hoped he could handle the journey.


	11. June 9, 2006

**June 9, 2006**

It was shortly after midnight when the pair reached their first fork in the trail. "Of fucking course…" R.J. muttered, "Well, any ideas Sam?"

Sam appraised the two options. The left path led uphill past a few craggy rocks, the right path led down into darker forests. "Right. Even if it doesn't get us where we need, uphill gives us the chance to see our surroundings and check we aren't being followed."

"Right it is." R.J. led with his portable fire flickering at the edge of his arm as they began climbing uphill.

"Alright, thanks Ellen. Send my best to Jo and everyone else." Bobby hung up the phone. Dean was anxiously pacing the floor in the living room, having made a rut between the many scattered papers and notebooks as he waited for someone to have a clue. _God forgive me for trusting these nutjobs, but I'm desperate…_

"Well Garth says he might've found something. Apparently there's been a bunch of weird weather around a ghost town-Cold Oak. Now, given, the area's already supremely haunted, so for it to suddenly kick into overdrive is a red flag."

"Well, it's better than nothing." Dean muttered, not too confident in the lead, "Where is Cold Oak?"

"In the middle of nowhere South Dakota. It's been abandoned for over a century and is surrounded on all sides by forest. The perfect kind of place for demons to take someone if they wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be any intervention." Bobby grimly intoned.

"As remit as I am to trust you-no offense-" Bobby shrugged, "_If _any of this supernatural bullshit is real you are the one who is knowledgeable." Dean concluded.

"I'll get my shit. Be ready to go in ten."

The path upward was manageable under normal circumstances, but given Sam's state he had to take quite a few breaks. It was nearly two when they reached the top. The incline leveled off, affording a wide view of the forest and valley below. In the distance Cold Oak was visible, a cluster of rectangles in the distance.

"Okay, now what?" R.J. asked, flipping out his cell phone. "I still don't have signal, and I can't see anything in terms of real civilization for miles in any direction.

Sam was about to respond as a man suddenly appeared in front of the two of them. He was of average height, wearing a dark suit, and had thick black hair. "Tsk-tsk… Now what are we doing all the way out here?"

"Shit! That's the demon guy from earlier!" R.J. exclaimed, quickly taking a step backward.

"I have a name you know." He feigned disappointment, "But I suppose that doesn't matter too much right now." He smirked, "Sammy, it's been a while…"

"I don't know who you are." Sam stepped back, bumping into R.J.

"Well, you should. After all…" His eyes flashed yellow, "…I'm kind of a big deal."

"What the fuck do you want?" R.J. whimpered.

"Well… let's see…" He started walking toward them, "I want to figure out who the vessel's going to be. And given that you two aren't playing by the rules… I have two different options." He grinned maliciously.

"What are they?" Sam coughed.

"Well, I could kill both of you-y'know disqualify you for cheating… Or, I could have a little fun."

R.J. and Sam exchanged a brief terrified look, "What's the fun option?"

"Well, given that right now the only other pepped-up kids I've got to choose from are currently about to off each other in a Mexican standoff." He paused, looking to the wind, "Make that, just offed each other in a Mexican standoff… You two are the only ones I have left to choose from."

R.J. paled as he realized what was coming next, "And you want us to fight to the death so you can have a victor."

"There ya go Randy! See, I knew you were a bright one-even if you did flunk out of community college…"

R.J. scowled, "It's R.J. and there's no way we're fighting each other."

"Really?" The demon scowled, "Then I guess I'll have to raise the stakes."

The two of them were suddenly back in the center of Cold Oak on opposite sides of what was once the town square, the decaying buildings were lined with eerie figures observing the confrontation. In the middle of the town stood the demon, holding two pieces of paper. "As I said earlier, I'm a pretty important guy. I just so happen to have the authority and connections to do about anything I please. In my hands I hold warrants for your parent's souls. I sign this and they're dead within the hour."

"No way in hell those are real." R.J. said, trying to call the demon's bluff.

"Really, do you want to make that bet?" The demon rolled up the scrolls, "Because I'm more than willing to show you how they work." He pulled out a smaller scroll, "Your sister just had twins? Right?"

R.J. eyed Sam nervously, "Sam… I'm sorry, I can't…" He ignited his forearms, "Please, I promise I'll make it quick…"

Sam backed up nervously, _FUCK, FUCK, FUCK… how the hell I am going to survive against the human torch?!_

The Celica whizzed behind Bobby's pickup as the two approached the ghost town. _Bobby wasn't kidding, this place was in the middle of nowhere… And in case this is all some elaborate trap to kidnap and do to me whatever he's doing to Sam, please God keep us both safe…_

Eventually the road became too narrow to continue on, and the two had to dismount. "It's about four miles from here. The path should lead us straight into the town." Bobby said, referencing an ancient-looking map.

"So, what about all the demons and beasties you say are around here? Everything looks normal." Dean glanced around at the near-morning forest.

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Just take this." He handed Dean a canister of salt.

"Salt?" Dean raised an incredulous eyebrow, "What am I supposed to do with this? Throw it in their eyes?"

"No ya idjit. Make a ring around yourself. You have no idea how to fight these things, but if something comes after ya a salt ring will keep you safe enough."

"Alright…"

The four miles completed just as the sun was rising. In front of them the forest ended and a town appeared, surrounded by small meadows. The buildings were mostly rotted wood structures on the verge of collapse, with the church steeple appearing to have already begun to tip as the supports had rotted out.

It was shortly after they crossed the meadow that Dean felt something was wrong. It was as if all the hair on the back of his neck had stood up at once. Before he had a chance to speak Bobby shouted.

"Get down!"

Dean ducked as Bobby shot off a round from his shotgun. Something white hissed as it disappeared from the corner of Dean's vision.

_Nope. Not a ghost. Nope. Come on Dean, keep it together man…_

"Dean! Make that ring!" Bobby commanded.

He complied, quickly dumping the salt around himself in a solid circle. Within seconds a dozen different spectral figures appeared, each grotesque and gaunt in their own ways.

"Bobby… I may owe you an apology." Dean stated, standing awestruck and horrified.

"As much as I love saying 'I told you so'…"Bobby pulled out an iron blade, "I think it might need to wait a few minutes."

Half an hour, nine salt rings progressively nearing the center of town, and four sessions of deep breathing later Dean and Bobby had reached the middle of town. So far they'd seen a fair share of corpses-to which Dean nearly hyperventilated-and upon seeing the center of town he quickly went into a fifth unhealthy breathing pattern. Most of the buildings here were charred, with a small fire still smoldering in the saloon. Off to the side of the square Sam was lying on the ground.

"Sammy!" Dean quickly ran over to his brother, ignoring the potential dangers that lurked in the shadows.

Sam is cool. Almost cold to the touch, which is alarming given the warm weather around them. Dean quickly checks for a pulse. He feels one, barely. When he pulls his hand back from Sam is when he realizes the blood. Sam has a sizable puddle under him. His left arm is slashed and appears partially burnt.

"Bobby! He's alive! We've gotta get him to a hospital!" Dean carefully hoisted his unconscious brother onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

Bobby nodded, not taking his eyes off the spot where a particularly persistent female spirit had disappeared. He backed up to Dean and guarded the brother as he carried Sam out of the forsaken town, the spirits taking note at the two leaving.


	12. June 11, 2006

**June 11, 2006**

The typical range for blood sugar in an adult male varies, but most individuals will be between 80 and 200 mg/dL. 80 is generally regarded as the low end of "safe" fasting blood sugar levels. Anything below 70 is concerning, 54 is a sign of immediate action. When Sam was admitted to St. Martin's Hospital he had 23 mg/dL and was also missing three pints of blood, not to mention the other less-life-threatening injuries he had sustained.

After a desperate Dean drug his brother through the front door of the emergency room a trauma team immediately took Sam away for transfusions and to try to get the dangerously low blood sugar back to a less alarming level. Dean was left with Bobby, sitting in the waiting room as he copied down Sam's insurance information (which he hoped was accurate and valid this far out-of-network).

Bobby listened as Dean talked on his cell phone, "Mom… It's Dean." He paused, "Can you get Dad and put it on speaker?" A brief shuffle had both Berettas crowded around the phone, "I found Sam. He's in the hospital right now; he's not in good shape… Yeah, thank God he's alive. St. Martin's." Dean paused as he wrinkled his face, "In South Dakota. Yeah, really. My friend Bobby helped me find him. I don't know. If I find anything out I'll call. Please pray for him, and both of us-we're running on fumes… I promise I will. Love you. Bye."

Bobby looked at Dean. The kid was worn the hell out. His eyes were bagged, his hair a mess, and somehow even his clothes looked tired. _That is one stubborn sonuvabitch. _Bobby rubbed the shiner that Dean had given him, _especially when it comes to his brother._

"You're right, y'know." Dean said, looking up from his folded hands.

"I'm right about what?"

"That there's monsters and ghosts and bears-oh-my…" He shrugged, trying to deflect his obvious worry with humor. "I'm sorry I called you crazy and thought you were a cultist who kidnapped my brother, even if you do still kinda give off a weird vibe."

"Honestly, I've been called worse." Bobby raised his hands as a miniature shrug, "And considering that you had no idea what was out there, and still decided to face it-you aren't too terrible yourself."

"Thanks." Dean paused, "When this is all over, I need your number-with the new horrifying realization that there _are_ creatures of evil everywhere I want to get some advice on keeping my family safe from this bullshit."

"Sure thing."

**SPN**

Dean and Bobby decided to spend the night in a hotel across the street from the hospital, with Sam's condition stable by the evening it was safe to leave him alone until the next morning. While Bobby had argued in favor of a cheaper motel a few blocks away, Dean refused. After his decidedly unpleasant stay in the motel on the way to Bobby's he had vowed to never settle for less than a three star location. _Because I'm not a nomad, I'm a schoolteacher damnit!_

**SPN**

_Holy shit. I'm not dead._ Sam looked around at the hospital room. It was a single room, and according to the board on the wall it was the 11th. _So I've been out for a day. Great. _Sam shifted his body weight and began to assess the extent of his injuries. His left arm was wrapped in gauze, while his right leg was in a cast. He had quite a few stitches he could see, _And probably a bunch more that I can't right now._ The IV was dripping steadily and aside from a slight headache he didn't feel different from normal-_Though, given that the bag says morphine, I can probably guess why._

_How the hell did I get here? R.J. knocked me off that balcony and I blacked out. But Cold Oak isn't near a hospital… And why am I not dead? I couldn't have won… I didn't stand a chance against R.J. But it was a battle to the death, so how am I here? _Sam furrowed his brow, then pressed the call button on his bed. It was going to be a hell of a morning.

**SPN**

After Dean crowded his brother and nearly lifted him out of the bed in a bear-hug he began to ask questions.

"Alright, first things first-what the hell happened?! I had no idea where you were, and if it wasn't for Bobby you'd be dead in some ghost town." Dean gestured at the gruff older man sitting bedside.

"I don't know how I got there, all I know is that when I woke up I was in a house in that town. A guy named R.J. woke me up and told me how a demon had told the others there that they were competing for some special honor… We hid in the house until sundown to avoid the others-there was a couple who had some pretty nasty abilities. After it was dark we took this path out of town, eventually we climbed a hill and were on the edge of the valley when the demon appeared." He paused.

"What did the demon do?" Dean asked, carefully watching Sam's face.

"He told us that it was just the two of us-R.J. and me-and that we had to fight to the death. If we didn't he said he had warrants out for Mom and Dad's souls-and R.J.'s parents… The yellow eyed bastard then teleported us back into town and the last thing I remember is falling off a balcony as we fought before I woke up here." Sam rubbed his gauzed arm.

"Yellow eyes?" Bobby tilted his head sideways, "You sure you don't mean black?"

"No. They were yellow, almost like looking at an animal when a light shines off of them. He said he had power in hell and that we were fighting-" Sam paused, trying to remember the exact words, "Because he needed to pick a vessel."

"A vessel for what?" Bobby cautiously pulled out a pen and paper.

"I don't know." Sam nervously replied.

**SPN**

The day slid on as the summer sun basked the hospital room in its warm rays. By mid-day the doctor had okayed reducing Sam's morphine dosage and it looked like he would be able to go home in a few days if everything continued progressing well.

Bobby disappeared briefly after lunch before returning with a paper bag.

"Bobby, we just had lunch. I hope you didn't run out to get something." Sam looked up from the card game he and Dean were playing.

"I wouldn't advise eating any of this…" Bobby tipped out the bag to reveal a few hex bags and a cylinder of salt.

"Salt and potpourri bags?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Salt and hex bags. We need to keep you safe, now that a demon suddenly took interest in you." Bobby began placing a few lines of salt and handed Dean a hex bag. "One for you, one for your brother. Don't lose these things because they're a pain in the ass to make and I don't have any spares."

"A hex bag?" Dean appraised the small pouch.

"It's a charm to keep you off the radar of demons." Bobby cocked his head sideways a minute before turning back to the brothers, "Neither of you would be opposed to getting a tattoo, would you?"

**SPN**

"You have ten minutes until visiting hours finish." A nurse poked her head in. "I promise we'll take good care of him until morning."

"Thanks. We'll be heading out in a few." Dean smiled and watched as she left.

"Y'know, it's almost funny." Sam said.

"What is?" Dean asked as he stuffed the cards back into their package.

"That it took me almost dying for you and Bobby to get along."

Bobby glanced at Dean, "Well, your brother certainly didn't make it easy. Though once he was finally convinced of the supernatural he softened up a bit."

"Though it nearly took being attacked by a banshee for that to happen." Dean remarked, glancing at his watch, "I'm just glad we're done with that miserable town."

Sam's face paled slightly as something dawned on him, "Wait… when you found me, were there bodies around?"

"Yeah. There were … a lot." Dean had mentally tried to erase the images, but they persisted.

"Those people deserve a decent burial, their families deserve closure." Sam sat up.

"Sammy, they tried to kill you!"

"Not really, aside from R.J. none of the others even saw me. Besides, it was forced on us."

"Fine. I'll call the parks department and give an anonymous tip." Bobby stated, "Now get some rest. Dean and I'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Goodnight Dean. 'Night Bobby."

"Goodnight Sam."

"G'night Sammy." Dean smiled as he closed the door.


	13. June 14, 2006

**June 14, 2006**

**Cold Oak Massacre**

An anonymous report has revealed a tragic massacre that took place in the abandoned town of Cold Oak, South Dakota. Police arrived to the ghost town on June 11th to find a horrific scene. According to Police Chief Eric Sanderson, "Our current theory is that the victims were lured to the town and forced to engage in a battle for survival at the hands of some sort of pseudo-authority figure. While there is little connecting the victims aside from age, we are doing further research to determine if this was the work of a cult or another group."

Police reports indicate that the town was littered with bodies of the deceased, with most having died via blunt trauma or stab wounds. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the families of the victims.

1\. Lillian R. Baker (January 23, 1983-June 10, 2006; San Diego, California)

2\. William B. Benson (March 6, 1983-June 10, 2006; Reading, Pennsylvania)

3\. Scott S. Carey (June 9, 1983-June 10, 2006; Lafayette, Indiana)

4\. Wilma G. Daugherty (November 23, 1983-June 10, 2006; Aurora, Colorado)

5\. Sarah M. Dorchester (October 4, 1983-June 10, 2006; Riverside, California)

6\. Geoff N. Fredricks (February 13, 1983-June 10, 2006; Plano, Texas)

7\. Lucy M. Funk (April 2, 1983-June 10, 2006; Rochester, New York)

8\. Andrew C. Gallagher (June 30, 1983-June 10, 2006; Guthrie, Oklahoma)

9\. Parker D. Godfrey (January 18, 1983-June 10, 2006; Boston, Massachusetts)

10\. Janice W. Heeler (September 4, 1983-June 10, 2006; Arlington, Virginia)

11\. Madison D. Jacobs (August 22, 1983-June 10, 2006; Davidson, Tennessee)

12\. Addison R. Jacobson (February 26, 1983-June 10, 2006; Greensboro, North Carolina)

13\. Josephine H. Kaplan (November 30, 1983-June 10, 2006; St. Paul, Minnesota)

14\. Martin V. Klein (May 29, 1983-June 10, 2006; Cleveland, Ohio)

15\. Jess O. Lawrence (October 31, 1983-June 10, 2006; Henderson, Nevada)

16\. Maxwell M. Miller (August 5, 1983-June 10, 2006; Saginaw, Michigan)

17\. Francine B. Nelson (August 9, 1983-June 10, 2006; Tulsa, Oklahoma)

18\. Victor X. Oswald (March 7, 1983-June 10, 2006; Miami, Florida)

19\. Kylee L. Rose (November 23, 1983-June 10, 2006; Honolulu, Hawaii)

20\. Dana V. Ruth (April 9, 1983-June 10, 2006; Akron, Ohio)

21\. Abraham D. Solomon (June 20, 1983- June 10, 2006; New York, New York)

22\. Jacob F. Talley (September 27, 1983-June 10,2006; Fort Wayne, Indiana)

23\. Veronica P. Tanaka (December 31, 1983-June 10, 2006; San Francisco, California)

24\. Nora T. St. Claire (July 5, 1983-June 10, 2006; Anchorage, Alaska)

25\. Ansem D. Weems (June 30, 1983-June 10, 2006; Guthrie, Oklahoma)

26\. Ava Q. Wilson (July 9, 1983-June 10, 2006; Peoria, Illinois)

27\. Zachary S. Yoder (December 2, 1983-June 10, 2006; Durham, North Carolina)

**SPN**

"Did you see the paper this morning?" Dean handed Sam a copy of _The Capital Journal_. "Look at page 4."

Sam leafed through the paper, holding the pages gingerly in his left hand-as any sharp movement caused a fair degree of pain, with the morphine no longer coursing through his system he was much more aware of his injuries-until he reached the article. "This isn't right."

"What? We called it in like you asked." Bobby replied.

"No, it's missing a name." Sam scanned the list again, _No… no, no, no…_

"Who?" Dean glanced at the list.

"Randall J. Burton. R.J." Sam paled, "Do you think…"

"He's alive?" Dean finished.

"You said that the yellow-eyed demon was rooting for only one of you to come out of it. If you're alive, then surely R.J. has to be dead, right?" Bobby adjusted his cap.

"Maybe… but what if he thought Sam was a definite goner? If we hadn't shown up, he'd've died regardless of the injuries." Dean added, worriedly. "And when we found you you didn't exactly look like you were much alive…"

"He could've just taken R.J. somewhere else until whatever fucked up plan he has is ready… All while assuming I was dead." Sam further paled.

"Look, everything is speculation right now. For all we know R.J. could've been burned up or something and they didn't find him…" Bobby warily added, "Let's keep our guards up, but not panic."

The brothers nodded.

**SPN**

Sam was discharged from the hospital shortly before one that afternoon, with Dean pushing his wheelchair out into the parking lot. Dean helped him maneuver to fit into the Celica, stowing his crutches in the trunk.

"Well Bobby, I hope this isn't goodbye for too long." Sam said, looking up from the passenger seat.

"It won't be." He smiled.

"No, it won't. I'm making damn well sure that both of us are prepared for the occult nonsense we've managed to slip into accidentally. Bobby agreed to help us train over the summer. I've got the break, and you're taking a sabbatical for your health-so we can both come up during the week." Dean looked intently at his brother, "I am NOT losing you again and NEITHER of us is going to let anything bad happen because of this newfound bullshit."

"Alright. Sounds like a plan to me." Sam smiled, just happy that everything was starting to make sense again.

After bidding goodbye to Bobby the two drove home, with Dean fielding most of the endless calls from relatives and friends. _Yes he's okay… No, he's not in a cult…I promise…_

It was good to feel loved, _Even if I am still a freak…_ Sam peered out the window as the peaceful farmlands passed by as the two neared home. _Boy do I hope this isn't the calm before the storm._


	14. July 7, 2006

**July 7, 2006**

"_GOD DAMNIT!"_ Dean cringed as the needle finished the second pass over his chest.

The tattoo artist rolled her eyes, "Sir, can you please attempt to hold still?"

"If you promise to take it easy, I'll try." Dean rolled his shoulder as he ground his teeth. Meanwhile Sam was reading a magazine as the male artist worked on his tattoo- the star perched on his left shoulder nearly complete.

Half an hour later Sam and Dean left the _Steel and Ink_ tattoo and piercing parlor. Dean rubbed his chest as he bitterly grumbled. "I swear she had it out for me. I'm bright red!" He lifted his shirt to show his chest.

"Dean, that's what happens when you get a tattoo. Didn't you listen to that whole spiel about how to moisturize it and take care of it afterward? They said it would be red and sensitive for a bit."

Dean sunk his head slightly, "No…"

Sam sighed, "Trust me; it doesn't hurt much after the first few days anyway."

Dean blinked, "Wait. How do you know that?"

_Shit. _"Uh…."

"Do you have another tattoo?"

Sam pursed his lips.

"I've seen you at the pool. You don't have any visible tattoos…" Dean cringed as he realized, "Please tell me you don't have one on your ass. I don't think I could handle if you have a tramp stamp."

Sam scowled, "Okay, one: it's not called a tramp stamp. And two: it's not on my ass, it's on my thigh." Sam hiked up his shorts. Sure enough, on his right thigh there was a tattoo.

"What the hell is that?" Dean cocked his head sideways.

"It's the Lord's Prayer in the original Greek. I got it for my twenty-first birthday."

"And how drunk were you exactly?"

"Shut up, jerk." Sam blushed, _about three beers too many._

"Whatever, bitch." Dean smirked as Sam rolled his eyes.

**SPN**

Bobby was waiting for the two brothers as Dean pulled the Celica into the junkyard. "You boys get what I showed you?"

"Yeah." Dean quickly lifted his shirt as Sam pulled up his sleeve.

"Good. We don't want a demon to try anything worse than you two have already dealt with."

"Seeing one up close is bad enough, I definitely don't want one inside of me." Sam winced, reflecting back on Cold Oak and his near-death experience.

"Speaking of demons, how exactly are we going to get to fight these things? Sam and I have been doing all the readings you emailed me, but neither of us has a clue on how to actually kill one of these things."

"Yeah, it's not like either of us has ever even fired a gun before-unless a couple of 22s at Boy Scout camp counts." Sam added, well aware of the fact that when compared to Dean and Bobby he had little when it came to physical training or conditioning for a fight.

"Honestly there's no way in hell you two are ready for demons, I don't even know if you're ready for basic shit-demons are serious business for the uninitiated." Bobby held up a book, "Look, right now you need to know what's out there. We'll start some basic firearms and hand-to-hand as well, but no real hunts. Just ease you in-_which honestly is kinda weird for this business_-and once you seem competent I'll see if we can try the real thing in a controlled environment."

"Alright. Seems fair enough." Dean shrugged.

"Good. Let's get started." Bobby grinned wickedly and Dean knew he was about to get even for the last time he visited.

**SPN**

Sure enough, Bobby did make sure to be a bit rougher on Dean than Sam with the physical component of their training. "Alright, last thing for today-" Bobby began, as the two brothers exchanged a thankful look, "-basic hand-to-hand combat. I know Dean can handle himself pretty well, but you have to…" The older hunter quickly grabbed Dean's left arm and flipped him over, knocking the wind out of younger man. Before Dean could react Bobby had his boot on his chest. "Be ready for an attack at any time."

After Bobby removed his boot Dean glared and stood back up, "I suppose I deserved that. But can we call it even, please?" He cracked his back and brushed off the dust that had found its way onto his t-shirt.

"Fair enough. For the rest of the day you two will be practicing defense against surprise attacks. Whichever of you idjits manages to get it over on the other more gets an extra serving of dessert."

"What's for dessert?" Sam asked.

"Blueberry crumb pie."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he grinned at his little brother, "Oh, it is _so_ on."

Dean quickly learned he wasn't as light on his feet as he thought. While he was very good in an even fight, he was completely useless with an unexpected combatant, Sam always heard him whenever he attempted to sneak up on him, and unfortunately for Dean the opposite was true with the younger Beretta. "Damnit Sam! Get off!" Dean threw off his brother as he climbed back onto the sofa. "At least with jujitsu there's an expectation of a fight!"

Sam untangled his gangly limbs as he stood up, smirking, "What're you mad because it's six-nil?"

"Shut up." Dean pouted.

"Does the big-bad second-degree black belt not like that his nerdy little brother is winning at something athletic?" Sam teased, knowing Dean's ego with athletics.

"I said cram it!" Dean picked up a book on shapeshifters and tried to look busy.

**SPN**

A few hours later, after Sam's second serving of blueberry crumb pie-_Boy Bobby, the second slice is somehow even better than the first!_-and Bobby giving Dean a second slice as well-_Because you've been sulking all damn afternoon-_the brothers mended their spat and decided to join Bobby in a quick round of cards.

"Shit, did you mark these cards Bobby?" Dean muttered after the older hunter showed his third full house of the evening.

Bobby cast a glance at Dean, "No, but I wouldn't have to considering how poor at poker both of y'all are."

Sam shrugged, he didn't deny that he was poor at cards-Dad was never much into them and with the exception of a few summer vacations at their grandparents (who didn't own a television) he and Dean rarely played. He scooted his chair back to get up and get a drink when the leg on the antique chair popped loose. Sam shielded his face as he anticipated falling to the ground, but after a few seconds opened his eyes. The chair was balanced sideways, defying gravity as Sam was perched comfortably on top. Both Bobby and Dean were gawking as the tension broke and Sam finally fell to the ground.

"Sammy… What the hell just happened?" Dean looked at his brother, who was sitting up on the hardwood floor.

"I don't know… Somehow I didn't fall for a few seconds." Sam looked at the chair. It lay beside him, a second leg having fallen out as a result of its eventual tumble to the floor.

"I think Sam might've just uncovered a hidden talent." Bobby stood up and helped him to his feet.

"What, telekinesis?" Dean glanced at the chair. "If so, that's pretty kick-ass."

Sam stood back up and brushed himself off, "Wait, how do I have more than one thing? I thought I could just see people's deaths." He pointed at his amulet, "And this is supposed to stop that."

"Well, maybe the amulet helped channel some of that energy elsewhere. Since you can't do the whole minority report thing, it went to whatever your backup is?" Dean ventured, to which Bobby nodded.

_Well great. I'm an even bigger freak._ "Not to say I'm ungrateful, but I don't exactly want to be telekinetic thanks to being part hell-spawn!"

"Sammy, as much as it sucks that you have demon blood there isn't a way to undo it. We can use it to our advantage though. If that yellow-eyed freak decides to do something we need to be ready, and if you can use your Criss Angel mindfreak powers to help stop him…" Dean paused at his brother's self-loathing look, "Look at me Sam." Sam glanced up, "You were given this ability by a demon, yes, but that doesn't make you evil. God puts challenges in all our lives-and look at any of the big ones in the Bible: Jonah, Moses, Paul; all of them had to fight against the world and overcome part of themselves in order to overcome evil with light." Dean smiled at Sam.

Sam reciprocated, "Okay. Fine. But what exactly do I do with this whole thing since I have no idea how to use it?" He glanced at Bobby.

"I don't know. I'm going to have to do some research, then I'll let you boys know. For now, just focus on the training so far. I'll figure out the rest."

"Thanks Bobby." Sam smiled weakly, "And sorry about your chair."

"No problem, your brother did worse last time. I just need to remember that you two are disaster magnets." He chuckled as Sam sat down in a different chair and began dealing a new hand.


	15. July 8, 2006

**July 8, 2006**

_I never knew. I never knew that everything was falling through. That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue to turn and run…_

Sam slid the alarm off as he stared blearily at the ceiling. It was 7:30, and there was another day ahead of training. He'd managed to get a sabbatical for a few months to recover (mentally and physically) from his apparent kidnapping, and he and Dean had scheduled for most of the time to be spent at Bobby's. Obviously they were home on the weekends to be with Mom and Dad (who begrudgingly agreed to their time at a 'health spa' to help Sam recover), but aside from that the two brothers lived in the guest room in the blue house that Dean had once described as "A ramshackle approximation of every horror movie cliché mixed with a before picture from _Extreme Home Makeover"._

Dean always got up around six, his physical fitness regiment necessitating that he was up early. Sam didn't exactly _hate_ exercise, per say-after all he had been on the soccer and track teams in high school-but he didn't focus on it as much as Dean. With Bobby's training, however, it became evident that the normally sedentary Sam would be required to engage in physical fitness to get him up to fighting standards-_Even with the freaky new power I accidentally discovered and have no fucking idea how to control._

Sam got dressed-slipping into a comfortable pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of worn Nike sneakers-and walked out of the brothers' bedroom. He could hear Dean and Bobby downstairs as he plodded across the floor and descended to the main level.

"Good morning sunshine!" Dean joked as Sam grabbed the coffee pot sitting on the counter.

" 'morning." Sam yawned as he poured himself a cup.

Bobby nodded at Sam, he too was sporting an impressive set of bags under his eyes, "Well Sam I did a bit of research-and while Dean hasn't stopped pestering me-I figured you should be here too when I discuss what I found."

Sam's ears perked up at that, "Did you find something about the telekinesis?"

"Not quite…" Bobby pulled out a worn green notebook, "But I did find something similar."

"Well, come on with it!" Dean tried glancing over Bobby's shoulder at the notebook.

"Mind your business, ya idjit!" He slapped Dean with the notebook, "I'm getting there, and I prefer not to have my personal notes scrutinized. Patience is a virtue after all."

"Fine." Dean muttered as Sam stifled a snort.

Bobby flipped open the notebook, "There is a case from the eleventh century about a girl who was pledged to be married to a wicked man, she made a deal with a demon to kill her future husband. In return the demon would get her first child. She agreed and the husband-to-be bit it. A few years later the girl got married and tried to renege on the demon's deal, now that her child would be with a man she loved. The demon vowed he would return, and on the six month anniversary of the child's birth he entered the baby's room and had it drink his blood. The father saw this, and the demon killed him before attempting to burn down the house with the child in it."

"This is sounding uncomfortably familiar." Dean glanced at Sam, "Bobby, our house burned down when Sammy was six months old and killed both our parents. Do you think that's what happened?"

Bobby's brow shot upward, "God I hope not, because if so there's a bit more to the story than I wanted to share."

"What do you mean, 'more'?" Sam nervously glanced at his wrist, well aware of the blood running through his veins not entirely being his own.

"Well…" Bobby cleared his throat, "I was just going to mention how the child grew up to have power and consumed the blood of demons to gain a frightening reputation…"

"_Consumed the blood of demons_?!" Sam shouted, horrified.

"Which you aren't going to do." Bobby stated firmly, "But if it turns out that it's the same demon we have some more serious problems."

"How serious?" Dean instinctively stepped in front of Sam.

Bobby nervously flipped the page in his notebook, "If it was in fact Azazel we have a problem. While his plan failed in the past it was mainly due to the instability of his choices. Middle Age British monarchy weren't exactly a mentally sound group, and after the vessel decided to off his nobles he killed his son-who would've likely been the choice for the one to fight him."

"I need some context here Bobby." Dean growled, growing ever more anxious.

"Azazel is an immensely powerful demon, to the point where no one who has seen him has survived. He is likely second in command to Lucifer and aims to release his master and unleash Hell on earth. The story-which I might remind you, is partially a Welsh folktale-asserts that he tried to mark a human as a vessel for his master, so that when he is able to escape he would be able to take over the world."

"Holy shit." Sam sat down, _No, no, no, no, no…_

"Yeah, and the crazy thing is that some believe that there has to be some cosmic scale duel between him and some ultimate good to determine the fate of the world."

"Bobby you're literally talking Revelations **_end of the world shit_**, '_And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven, having the key to the Abyss and holding in his hand a great chain._****_He seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil, or Satan, and bound him for a thousand years. He threw him into the Abyss, and locked and sealed it over him, to keep him from deceiving the nations anymore until the thousand years were ended. After that, he must be set free for a short time.' _That's end-of-days, Armageddon type stuff." Dean anxiously turned to Sam, "My brother is not going to be the vessel for some demon!"

"Technically Lucifer is a fallen angel." Sam numbly muttered, gazing at his hands, "Morningstar used to be an angel before he was cast out of heaven for his pride."

"Either way, I am NOT letting that happen!"

"Calm down! I'm not saying we are, what I am saying is that if Azazel did decide to try again in preparation for his boss' 1,000 year timer ending, it makes sense he cast a wider pool to choose from, one of whom was Sam. But seeing as Sam isn't currently being groomed as a vessel for the head-honcho of Hades, I think Azazel chose someone else."

"R.J." Sam replied.

"Most likely."

"So what do we do? We can't let some punk from Jersey unleash hell on earth!" Dean turned to Sam, "And what about Sammy? Is he supposed to fight this guy as some force of good?"

"Look boys, I don't know. There's not really any other information. As best I can guess Azazel is going to somehow try to release his boss so he can possess R.J. and get ready for the confrontation."

"So, what, we have to stop him."

"And how exactly can we do that?" Sam panicked, "Dean, I have no idea how to do anything with these cursed powers, and considering that there's a chance that the devil-_the actual fucking devil_-might want me as a meatsuit…" He started hyperventilating.

Dean calmly placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and locked eyes with his brother, "Before you got up Bobby was telling me about a few of the other hunters he works with. One of them is a group of four people about our age. They're two couples, and the one is a guy named Norv and his girlfriend V. Norv is a skinwalker, he can change into a dog. Bobby's basically the only person who knows because if other hunters got wind they'd ice him. But guess what, Norv still fights the same SOBs that the rest take on, and he and V have one of the highest success rates out of any hunters out there. He knows he's a monster, but it doesn't stop him. He's not evil because of what he is; he chooses to do go with what he's got."

Bobby nodded, "He actually saved a few kids from a burning building while on a case because of his nature. He changed into a dog and pulled a toddler and his baby sister out of their house."

"What you are doesn't make you evil. Acting evil makes you evil."

Sam put his head down in shame, "But who's to say I won't start acting evil? I'm part demon, it could just happen and I'd have no idea how to stop it."

"Sammy, I've known you my entire life. The most evil thing you've ever done was put chocolate pudding in Marissa Johnson's hair in third grade-and you immediately starting crying about it and spent two hours in confessional because you thought you'd go to hell because of a dessert." Dean lifted his brother's head, "You've gotta stop hating yourself. You're not gonna pull an Anakin. Come on, man."

Sam smiled weakly, "Thanks Dean." He embraced his brother, who begrudgingly agreed and patted his back for a few second before attempting to wriggle free.

"So, given that we know Sam isn't going to be drinking demon blood, how exactly are we going to help him with his powers in case he does end up being the one to take on the forces of evil?"

"Well, normally powers like this-when not inherited from demon blood-can be trained using meditation and self-reflection." Bobby looked at Dean's withering look, "Look, I know it sounds like new-age crap, but I don't exactly have a ton of experience with this specific situation."

"In any case, considering how you feel about yourself, I think some positive self reflection might be in order." Dean paused, "Even if it does sound like the kind of thing a person into crystals and dream-catchers would suggest."

"Good. After breakfast you two can do some sibling bonding or whatever while I try to get some more specifics on what exactly Azazel might be up to. Because, honestly, if it is him 'Biblical' might be an understatement of what we're up against."

"Great." Sam sighed as he wearily looked at his brother.

"Well, let's just eat for now and then try to turn ourselves into pretzels-" Dean glanced at Sam, "-because I have a sinking suspicion we're going to have to do some yoga."

Hey! Quick message from the author here. Just wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas (or whatever it is you celebrate)! I promise some more good stuff is coming up soon, the next few months are going to be intense for our brothers!


	16. July 24, 2006

**July 24, 2006**

"Oh come on…" Dean craned his neck as he glanced at _Yoga and You: A Guide to Inner Peace_. "Okay, so now we have to bend our left legs out and…" He squinted, "Touch our right hand to our left feet?" He and Sam were set up in the living room of Bobby's. Dean had managed to clear a spot of the constant litter of papers and books and set up two mats he'd brought from home (_Granted, they're what I use for sparring, but same difference_). Sam was relatively limber, despite not being overly athletic, while Dean's bulkier build led to some difficulty with the more intricate poses.

Sam followed Dean's instructions, glancing at the open book between them to see if his body matched the picture. It had been a few weeks and the yoga had been going well enough, even if Sam still didn't really understand how to tap into his secondary powers. Between training exercises and lessons from Bobby the brothers had been focusing on developing Sam's ability to meditate, figuring that it was the best way to eventually link his conscious mind and subconscious powers. At the moment there were occasional spurts of control, but it was rare and Sam usually had a nosebleed afterward from the stress. "Alright, I'm about as stretchy as I want to be for today." Sam cracked his back as he stood up, "Besides, it's time to start dinner." He gestured to the clock hanging on the wall-it was nearly four.

"Alright, I'll get this stuff cleaned up if you go and find Bobby." Dean started folding up the pads, _If you can manage to drag him out of his office._ Bobby had been researching as much as he could about Azazel, and so far had no specifics on his plan aside from the brief folktale he'd already told the brothers. Sure, there was speculation by a few different demonologists-and one or two of his contacts had claimed that it was supposed to be a battle between heaven and hell, but Bobby doubted that. Despite the brother's beliefs, Bobby said that there wasn't any evidence for any sort of God or positive force to counteract the evil of hell, let alone angels-which Dean had suggested as a potential solution to how the big battle would commence. Regardless, at the moment the three were behind the ball-Azazel had a plan (a big one) and they had no idea what they could do to stop it.

As Sam pulled Bobby out of his office and into the kitchen Dean finished putting the mats away and looked at his phone. Mom had already checked in for the day, _As usual_, but Dean smiled when he was greeted with a text. He flipped open the phone and quickly replied, agreeing to a meet-up soon.

**SPN**

Dean joined in making dinner, with the three men shuffling around each other in the small kitchen to get the food prepared. Sam and Dean had grown accustomed to staying with Bobby, and felt it right that they pitch in-they weren't moochers after all-which led to them eventually forcing Bobby to allow them to use his kitchen. Tonight was salmon, mashed potatoes, and broccoli.

After dinner Bobby usually returned to his study and the brothers continued with their training, with Sam quizzing Dean on the massive stack of index cards he's written about various supernatural creatures.

"Weaknesses of a wendigo?" Dean read, flipping over the card to check Sam's written answer against his brother's reply.

"Fire and Anasazi symbols?" Sam replied.

"And what do Ana-Anasa-" Dean frowned, "Those symbols look like?"

Sam pulled out a sheet of paper and quickly sketched a handful of different symbols.

"Correct, _showoff._" Dean smirked as Sam grinned and grabbed a card to add to his correct pile.

Sam picked the next card off the pile, "Ways to deter or contain demons?"

Dean furrowed his brow as he thought, "Well, salt, iron, holy water, and… crisco?"

"Not quite, it's 'Christo'-Latin for Christ. But the others were right." Sam put the card back in the stack.

"Man do I wish we could kill those fucking things. I mean, imagine if you could just walk up to that yellow-eyed bastard and light him up. Sucks that demons are basically unkillable." Dean lamented.

Bobby poked his head into the living room. "Dean, what did you just say?"

Dean blinked, glancing at Sam before repeating, "I said I wish we could kill demons."

"That's it!" Bobby quickly left his chair and walked over to a shelf on the wall above his television. "Where is that thing?"

"Bobby, what's going on?" Sam watched as the hunter excitedly pulled a book off the shelf.

"This is." Bobby held up a book-_Legends of the Old West._

"What, a book about the second-worst time in US history to be alive?" Dean stated, folding his arms.

Bobby sighed, "No, look." He flipped the book open to a page close to the middle.

"_Samuel Colt, father of the Colt's Manufacturing Company, is rumored to have created an especially unique Patterson model. The Colt Patterson was a revolver style handgun capable of firing six rounds, typically .36 ammunition, and was known as a gun favored by both the authorities and outlaws alike. Legend holds that on November 30, 1835 as Haley's Comet was overhead he created a prototype (as the Patterson model did not enter regular production until the year following) and blessed the gun that it might be used as a weapon against all forces of evil. He bestowed the gun to an unknown man who is said to have used it six times to kill six different ancient evils, including demons and evil spirits. The man who used the gun disappeared and with it so did the most powerful firearm ever created, according to legends surrounding the mysterious weapon._" Dean read the passage aloud.

"What, some cowboy pistol is going to take down the devil's right hand guy?" Dean glanced at Bobby in disbelief.

"That's how the story goes."

"So, what, in addition to trying to figure out how to have Sammy get control over his powers we also have to look for a single antique handgun in a country with so many guns we have more than the ten beneath us?" Dean was incredulous.

"Yes."

"Assuming it is real and not some cowboy legend." Sam noted, looking at the worn pages of the book boasting a number of even more incredible legends.

"Yup." Bobby nodded.

Dean sighed, _Sometimes I swear my life is like some messed up TV show, _"Okay, sure, why not. You try and track down the colt, Sammy and I'll keep doing yoga and deep breathing exercises."


	17. July 31, 2006

**July 31, 2006**

"Alright, thanks Gordon…" Bobby hung up the phone and rubbed his temple, crossing off another hunter from his list. So far he'd managed to call nearly all his contacts-_well all his contacts with valid phone numbers_-and of the few that knew of the Colt, even less believed in it, let alone where it might be. He was about to give up with the search and look into something else that could permanently send Yellow Eyes back downstairs when he sighed and decided to try the last number on his list for the day.

"Hello?" A gruff voice chewed on the phone.

"Elkins it's me, Bobby." Bobby sighed, "Look, I know it's been a while-"

"Four years, two months, and three days."

"Yes…" Bobby hissed.

"You finally decided to apologize?"

Bobby growled as he clenched the handset, "Yes."

"Well I'm gonna need a bit more than that."

"I'm sorry I tipped the police off on you."

"You better damn well be! It took better part of a month to get rid of the snoops."

"You deserved it ya idjit! You put an APB out on my plates and I ended up in a holding cell on Christmas!" Bobby sputtered.

"Yeah, well you had it coming after you stole half-a-dozen books from my cellar."

"I gave 'em back!"

"They were literally nothing but ashes!"

"But they were back!"

"Bobby, why the hell are you calling me?" Daniel Elkins sighed, placing his brandy on the dining room table.

"Because I need help."

"That's a shocker."

"Shut up."

"So, what is it?" Elkins flipped open a notebook.

"Did you see that article about the kids who died in Cold Oak?"

"Yeah, I figured it was some weird cult, given that there wasn't anything in the area when I had someone follow up on it."

"Well, it wasn't. Apparently it was the work of a demon, Azazel, he's trying to raise hell-literally-and I'm trying to find a way to stop him." Bobby picked at the phone cord, "I know one of the only two kids who walked out of that place alive, and the other's missing-I promised myself I'd keep him safe and I'm not failing at that again." Bobby sighed, "I heard about a gun-the Colt-and I wanted to see if you knew anything."

There was a pregnant pause before Elkins replied sharply, "That's a dangerous gun, Singer. It's not just the end-all-beat-all when it comes to the supernatural; it's also a literal key to hell."

"Come again?"

"That gun unlocks a gate to hell. If that demon gets a hold of it, you're looking at a big mess."

Bobby exhaled deeply, "So, any idea where it might be? You're the first person that knows anything about it."

"Nope." And with that the line was dead and Bobby was somehow even more stressed than he had been.

**SPN**

After lunch Sam and Dean were continuing their ritual of meditation. Dean had drug out the mats and the brothers were sitting silently as a gentle summer breeze came through the window. As much as Dean hated to admit it, the time actually did bring him and Sammy closer, even if it was a bit weird and more 'spiritual' than he was comfortable. Sam sat cross legged and tried to focus on the idea of his powers. He visualized himself using them as he sat, inhaling and exhaling slowly as he slowed his heartbeat.

"I'll be back in a sec, I have to take a piss." Dean stood up, shaking his leg that had fallen asleep as he trudged over to the powder room. Sam closed his eyes once more. He could feel his pulse ringing in his ears as he tried to focus on his power, his eyes were burning and his skin felt warm as he continued to focus.

"I've gotta get Bobby to buy some better handsoap, his smells like-" Dean stopped dead in his tracks. "Sammy… Open your eyes."

"Dean, I'm trying to concentrate." Sam chastised.

"Seriously, open up."

Sam rolled his eyes as he opened them, before blinking in surprise. Around him well over a dozen books were suspended in the air about a foot off the ground.

Dean tapped a book and it stayed in place. "How are you doing this?"

"I'm not sure. Lots of concentrating. Feels like my ears are popping." Sam grimaced briefly.

"Can you make them go back down?"

Sam released his breath and willed the books descend, slowly they returned to the floor.

"Holy shit, Sammy!" Dean was grinning ear to ear, "That was awesome! Wait, hold on a sec." He ran into the kitchen, "Catch!"

Dean tossed an apple in the air. Sam blinked before focusing on it, having it stop before it gently floated toward him and dropped onto the mat.

"I guess I owe Sylvia Brown an apology." Dean muttered, "That was incredible!"

Sam teetered over, exhausted.

"Woah, you okay?" Dean picked up his brother.

"Fine. But it takes a lot out of me."

"Well, no blood this time, so that's good."

"Good." Sam mumbled.

Dean plopped Sam on the couch, "No more for today, but if you keep it up we might just have a fighting chance for whatever it is that's coming up."

**SPN**

"Hey, I'm heading out." Dean called from the front door.

"What? Got a hot date?" Sam chimed from the living room.

"In fact, I do." Dean smirked.

"Well, give her my condolences." Sam snarked.

"Ha ha. Very funny." Dean rolled his eyes as he shut the door and unlocked the Celica. _It has been way too long. I definitely need a bit of this._

Half an hour later Dean was busy. And a bit tipsy. And frustrated that condom wrappers were so difficult to open.

"Damn it…" He muttered, fiddling with the corner of the wrapper.

"Do you need me to open it again?" Alex asked, smirking from the motel's queen bed, clearly sprawled out to display as much as possible.

"No."

Alex sighed and slid off the bed, taking the wrapper with a set of slender fingers and daintily opening it. "Oh no. I guess I'll have to help put it on."

Dean blushed as the skin-on-skin contact slid up and gently released. A brief stubbly kiss followed as Alex returned to bed.

"Well, come on. I didn't drive all the way from Kansas for nothing."

Dean grinned, happily walking to the bed. "Well, I hope not." He coughed, looking down, "Thanks for letting me top this time."

Alex grinned deviously, "No problem. But next time I get to bring something fun!"


	18. August 11, 2006

**August 11, 2006**

It had been a little under two weeks since Bobby had called Elkins and ever since he'd been turning over their conversation in his brain. Sam and Dean were busy training in the yard-Sam was now able to stop thrown hubcaps and get them to change direction mid-air-and Bobby was looking over his notes on the Colt. _First, how did Elkins know that the Colt was also a key to hell. I've been looking everywhere and I can't find a damn thing on that-all the legends are pretty much the same as what I told the boys. Second, if he did know the gun he sure as hell wouldn't tell me-and not just because he wants to spite me, the old idjit. He has to know._

Bobby dialed Elkins again, _though with my shitty luck the bastard finally blocked my number._ When the number rang through for the third time he 'borrowed' Dean's phone from the table upstairs and tried it-no answer again. _What, did he take a vacation?_ Bobby rang up Ellen to see if anyone had heard from Elkins.

"I can't say we have for a while. Couple of his regulars ended up calling me to check in on him-so far no one's gotten a hold of him for a few days. If I had to guess the old coot probably took a fishing trip and forgot to set a voicemail." Ellen polished a glass as she continued, "Though it's not like anyone'd be crazy enough to actually check up on him-the man's so paranoid I bet his place makes yours look like a garden shed when it comes to security. Not to mention his itchy trigger finger."

"Well, thanks Ellen. Give my best to Jo and the rest."

"Will do, and keep yourself safe."

**SPN**

"Did we really have to take a fucking Country Squire?" Dean shifted in the back seat.

"It's the only thing I have big enough to fit us all and the shit we need." Bobby replied.

"Yeah, but couldn't Dean and I take our own cars?" Sam glanced at his brother, who was busy trying to stretch his legs.

Bobby rolled his eyes in the rear view mirror, "The one thing you two don't know about hunting is that you need to draw as little attention as possible. A convoy of three cars isn't exactly normal behavior in these small towns. Besides, I doubt either of you could find this place if you ended up lagging behind. It's not exactly on the beaten path." Bobby turned off the interstate and onto a winding side-road.

"Well, can one of us get shotgun next time? I feel like I'm on the way to Wally World right now." Dean griped.

"Rumsfeld always gets shotgun." Bobby patted the pooch's head, "Because he's a good boy, and he doesn't ruin my collection of antique hubcaps."

Sam blushed as Dean cleared his throat. "We're sorry about that…"

"You will be. You're gonna buff them out and reorganize them as soon as we're done with this."

"Fair enough." Dean conceded as the car turned into the town of Manning, Colorado.

**SPN**

On the outskirts of town the Ford pulled up the long drive of Daniel Elkin's cabin. As they approached it became clear something was amiss.

"Well, that isn't good." Sam pointed toward the front door of the cabin. It was ripped off its hinges and laying halfway across the yard, split nearly in two.

"Yeah, and neither is that." Dean nodded toward the broken salt line at the door, as well as the ruined sigils.

"Come on. We need to see if he's okay." Bobby opened the driver's door. "Rumsfeld, wait here boy."

Sam and Dean followed as Bobby edged near the house. "Looks clear, but stay alert." He whispered, motioning for the boys to follow him inside.

"Holy shit." Dean's jaw dropped.

"Well, someone was looking for something." Sam glanced around at the debris of the once modest cabin.

To say that the interior was wrecked would be an understatement. Books and papers were scattered and torn across any and each surface. Every stick of furniture had either been smashed to splinters or ripped into pieces. The windows had been destroyed, and it appeared as though a crowbar had been taken to the cabinets, having pried them off their footings in the kitchen. As the three silently walked through the wreckage Dean spotted something out of the corner of his eye.

He quickly tapped the other two and motioned. There was a door off the main room-_probably a bedroom-_ and there was something dark that had leaked under the door.

Bobby stayed himself as he led the way, slowly nudging the door open. Inside lay the body of Daniel Elkins, a ruined safe, and the remains of a former hunter's life work.

Dean nearly vomited, Elkins looked an absolute state-his eyes were bulging from their sockets, his mouth lay frozen in a perpetual scream, and his body was broken and bloody. Sam did.

"What the hell…" Dean finally regained his ability to speak and edged along the wall, as far away from the body as possible.

"Not quite." Bobby scowled, looking at Elkins body.

"So, I'm guessing that this means that our friend Mr. Yellow Eyes now has the Colt and we're screwed, right?" Dean averted his eyes as he inspected the safe.

"How do you know it wasn't him?" Sam stuttered.

"I'm pretty sure demons don't suck blood." Bobby rolled Elkins over and revealed a large wound on his neck and upper torso, the clear fang marks of a vampire.

"What would vampires want with the Colt?" Dean swallowed another rising urge to vomit.

"Nothing, probably, aside from vengeance. I know Elkins has had his fair share of battles with bloodsuckers, so this might've just been revenge." Bobby scratched his head before reapplying his hat, "They likely knew about it through some means and decided to take it as some sort of trophy of what they'd done-finally killing their tormentor."

"So, what do we do now?" Sam held a hand over his eyes to block out the corpse.

"We find out where the vamps are and get that gun." Bobby stated.

"What about Elkins?" Dean looked with pity on the dead man.

Bobby grimly looked at his former companion, "Have you ever heard of a Viking funeral pyre?"

**SPN**

It was nearly dark when they finished preparing the pyre. Bobby had wrapped Elkins in a few sheets from the house while Sam desperately tried to avoid any contact with the dead body and kept Rumsfeld busy. Bobby poured the lighter fluid and salt on the corpse and lit the pile. It was in the center of the cabin, so that when it finished Elkins it would burn the house and any evidence of the attack with it. There had been documents on the Colt that Bobby had salvaged, along with a few books, but knowing their cost had outweighed any potential gratitude that Bobby might have for the new information.

As the cabin began to creak and the fire engulfed the roof the three men stood side by side, silently watching the red against the night sky. They would need to do much work to get to the Colt, but for now they lived in the quiet light of a funeral, hoping that things would be better when the sun rose again.


	19. August 12, 2006

**August 12, 2006**

It was a late night for the Berettas and Bobby. It took the better part of the evening (and early morning) to compile a list of potential hideaways that the vamps might've gone to with the Colt. In the end there were 14 different probable locations-ranging from a few abandoned industrial buildings to farmsteads, and a few caves-_Because despite being a stereotype there is some truth in it._ The three turned in around seven and slept until midday, knowing that the bright sun would make sure their intended targets were where they were supposed to be.

**SPN**

Dean didn't usually dream. Or, when he did he wasn't aware of that fact. For some reason today was different. He was sitting in the living room of his parent's house reading a book when it occurred to him that he was dreaming. He closed the book and glanced around at the walls-everything looked normal enough-but somehow he knew he was asleep. He turned to slip off the sofa when suddenly the room evaporated and a bright light replaced it.

He was floating now, weightless in a void. There was nothing around him, but instead of freaking the fuck out because he was going to fall, Dean felt calm. _It's probably the light._

"It is." A voice replied.

Dean spun around to face the speaker and was greeted with a man about his age. He looked kinda like Alex-if Alex suddenly decided to start going to the gym and started dressing like a tax attorney. He had the same blackish-brown hair in a sorta mussed-up comb-over and the same piercing blue eyes. His clothes were pretty standard for an office worker-a suit and tie, but with a weird beige-ish trench coat that seemed to float in the void. It almost made it look like he had wings. Dean remembered most of his-_ahem, adult-_fantasies, and this wasn't too far off the mark-aside from the void, this guy was pretty much his type.

_Well, since this is a dream, I might as well enjoy it… _Dean smiled deviously, "So, figment of my imagination-what repressed urges are we going to delve into today?" The man tilted his head slightly and opened his mouth to speak, but Dean continued, "Because I swear I'm not a furry, even if I did have that one weird dream about foxes last week…"

"Dean, I am not a figment of your imagination." The man replied. "My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord and I am here to warn you."

_Shit._ "Uh…"

Castiel crossed his arms and waited for Dean to finish processing everything happening, "Once you have finished your embarrassment and self-loathing, I would like to talk with you."

Castiel lifted his arm and the void suddenly became the bleachers behind Dean's high school. It was a memory, as a teenaged Dean played football with a few friends on the empty field in the early spring air. "As you are aware, there is a demon who intends to unleash hell on earth."

"Yeah, Azazel-the one with the freaky yellow eyes."

"Indeed. I have come to warn you to be careful, you have a greater role than you know-you and your brother." Castiel warned cryptically.

"What does Sammy have to do with this?" Dean turned toward the angel.

"At the moment we are unsure, as things are not going according to the path we had anticipated. For now be careful, and watch for your brother."

Suddenly Dean was awake. Sammy was still sleeping in his bed and Bobby was on the pull-out. It was almost one and before Dean went back to bed he had something he had to attend to…

**SPN**

"So, that was another bust." Dean remarked, crossing off a former flour processing plant from their list. So far there hadn't been any success. Aside from a handful of vagrants and some particularly aggressive raccoons, there hadn't been any other people at the previous six locations.

"Well, here's hoping seven's lucky." Bobby remarked, pulling the station wagon onto the small side-road the factory had been on.

"Next one's on Mill Creek Road." Sam read, "An abandoned dairy farm."

When the car pulled into the front gates of the farm it was clear something was off.

"For an abandoned farm there sure is a lot of tire tracks coming and going from the barn." Dean gestured toward the deep groves in the muddy excuse for a driveway.

"Yeah, and those boards over the windows look pretty new." Sam gestured to the fresh looking plywood-still tan, as opposed to the much darker and faded plywood covering the farmhouse's windows on the other side of the main drive.

"I think this might be the place." Bobby turned to face the boys. "Remember what I taught you?"

"Clean decapitation is the only way to kill them. Bullets are useless." Dean pulled out a large machete.

"And?" Bobby added.

"Dead man's blood can weaken them, but it's not going to kill them." Sam held up a bottle of thick crimson blood.

"Coat the blades with the blood, that way even if you miss it still weakens them, if only for a little bit." Bobby eyed the barn, "Chances are they're resting right now-but it's a nest-there could be up to a dozen of 'em in there. So watch your backs, we all have to stick together on this one." Bobby sighed, "Vamps aren't a ideal first hunt-given that the things are malicious bastards, but as long as you aren't bit, you'll be fine." Bobby pulled out a bushwacker. "You boys ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Sam clutched the large knife as Dean nodded solemnly.

Three minutes and twenty-six seconds later Dean was reevaluating his decision of agreeing to hunt evil. _Because this ugly sonuvabitch is a real pain in the ass!_ Dean managed to shove the quarterback of a man off him as he reached for his knife.

The vampire growled as he lunged at Dean, "Alright pretty boy, let's see how you look with a hole in your neck!"

Dean's eyes ballooned as he quickly dodged, narrowly avoiding the tackle. Sam was busy with a chic, and Bobby had just managed to take down two others at once. That meant that his and Sammy's were the last two left. The brute charged again at Dean-who was woefully unarmed. Suddenly Dean's knife flew from the ground and slashed at the man's chest before it landed in front of Dean. He howled as the cut allowed dead man's blood to seep in. Dean, reequipped with a blade, finished him off as Sam decapitated his combatant.

"Everyone okay?" Dean panted, looking around the room. Sam flashed a thumbs up as Bobby put his hand on his lower back to crack it.

"Thanks for the save there. The telekinetic dorky little brother thing is a real help." Dean smirked.

"Not the first time I've had to save your ass." Sam retorted.

"Really?"

"Eighth grade when Marsha Long's braces got stuck in yours?" Sam straightened his shirt, a shit-eating grin covering his face.

Dean scowled, "If I could've seen better I could've used the pliers myself."

"You wish…"

"As much as I love the back and forth, we did come here for a reason." Bobby chastised.

"Sorry Bobby." They replied.

"Look for some sort of safe or storage container-chances are they hid the thing pretty well." Bobby started rooting through a desk.

"Or they just left it out in the open?" Dean picked up a gun from a nearby table, showing it to the other two. It was the Colt, no doubt. Despite the age the gun looked brand new. It didn't have a single mark on it, and the accompanying ammo (_which came in a bitchin' bandolier_) was consecrated silver.

"So we have the Colt, what now?" Sam eyed the gun nervously as Dean handed it to Bobby.

"Now we wait for that sonuvabitch Azazel to make the next move." Bobby placed the gun in a holster as he led the way back to the car.


	20. August 19, 2006

**August 19, 2006**

Dean reviewed the curriculum pacing guide for the first month again. Third grade had shifted their science curriculum to match the new state standards imposed as a result of the NCLB, and Dean wasn't pleased with the quality of the new content. Granted, it covered a greater range of topics-but with an extremely superficial level of dedication. The school was also mandating weekly STEM Fridays-meaning that there were only four days to teach the material each week. He sighed, _And they wonder why our test scores keep slipping…_

**SPN**

Sam was enjoying a cup of tea as he read a magazine. He was back at work, and was looking forward to more normalcy. _Bobby's great and all, but I don't exactly want to be a hunter-though the information is pretty useful I'm looking forward to this all being over and us getting back to normal._ He smirked at the thought of all the clear acrylic devils traps painted all over his house. He and Dean had both taken to it as a precaution-that and placing permanent salt lines under the window sills by filling PVC pipes with salt and hiding them under the sill.

He glanced at his laptop as a light blinked-_Another email._ Sam had been required to host a class in the fall and was already being bombarded with questions by a handful of students._ I still have no idea how Dean manages little kids, adults are bad enough!_

**SPN**

Bobby had taken every precaution when dealing with the Colt. The gun was arguably the single most valuable thing against the impending apocalypse, and there was no way in hell he was letting anything happen to it. The gun was tucked in what had once been the downstairs linen closet (back when Karen had insisted they have good linens). The thing was made of iron, surrounded by salt, and only able to be opened by his fingerprint and a key he had tucked in a safety deposit box halfway across the state. Bobby glanced at the cabinet as he poured over another book, _Even if a demon showed up in his living room it wasn't going to get it._

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Yellow-eyes smirked as he stepped through the doorway and pinned Bobby to the wall.

"How the fuck did you get in?!" Bobby sputtered.

"I had some help. Oh, R.J.!" The call was sickeningly sweet, mocking a parent calling for their child.

"Right here…" R.J. stepped out of the shadows of the entry, his eyes glowing.

_Holy shit. _"R.J.?"

"Sorry I can't stay and chat Bobby. If you don't mind my boss and I have some business to attend to, then we'll be going." He smiled wickedly as he walked over to the linen closet and yanked the wooden door off its frame. He laughed at the safe door. "Reinforced with a biometric scanner and a keyhole." He placed his finger on the keyhole and listened as the heat melted the tumblers, releasing the lock.

Azazel smiled, turning to Bobby. "I'll get you the print in a minute." He tilted his chin up, appraising the hunter pinned to the wall. "Which finger?"

"Like I'd tell you." Bobby spat at him.

"Well, I wanted to be civil." Azazel pulled out his blade and severed Bobby's right hand-it fell to the floor with a thud as Bobby stood shocked, beginning to pale as blood poured from his stump and began to puddle on the floor. Azazel tossed the hand to R.J., "Try these. Chances are it was his right, but I'll get the left if none of them work."

R.J. caught the hand as if it were no different than a baseball and began pressing the fingers. It clicked when Bobby's middle finger was pressed against the sensor. "I gotta admit, defiant until the end…" R.J. picked up the Colt.

"Well, he's like the other two I told you about-they like to do things the hard way." Azazel stepped forward, his breath on Bobby's neck. "You know, I wanted to thank you for this-the Colt in a nice spot, safe from any idiots trying to use it…" He placed his finger under Bobby's chin. "When I came in I had planned to kill you, but you know what, I think I'll let you live. You did my job for me with this one." He stepped back, "After all, I'm a sporting fellow." He flicked his wrist and Bobby's hand was no longer bleeding, it was cauterized, leaving painful third degree burns in its place. "It's more fun to win when your opponent has a chance. No one likes an easy victory." He turned to R.J. and nodded, then suddenly they were gone and Bobby fell to the floor, no longer suspended by the demon's power.

Bobby limped to his phone and pressed six.

"Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?"

**SPN**

Bobby was passed out when he felt the EMT lift him onto a stretcher. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to refuse. He heard muffled talking and felt someone put an IV in his arm, then the darkness took over again.


	21. August 20, 2006

**August 20, 2006**

"Good morning Mr. Singer, you gave us quite a scare last night!"

Bobby blinked; he was in a bright white hospital room. His right arm was heavily bandaged and he could feel the IV from last night had been joined by another in the opposite arm. "Where am I?"

"You're in North Plains Memorial Hospital. You called 911 last night and we got you here and got you all patched up-well, as good as we could…" Her eyes darted tellingly to his right wrist. "Unfortunately we were unable to reattach your hand, despite it being at the scene. The cauterization of the wound prevented us from re-connection, though it likely saved you from bleeding out from your radial artery-which was heavily damaged by the removal of your hand."

Bobby sighed as he looked down at his hand-or stub-and then looked back up to the nurse, "Is it possible for me to make a phone call? I need to let a few people know what's happened."

"Of course, let me get you the room phone." She handed Bobby a rotary phone on a cord-"Sorry it isn't touch-tone, we're getting the building upgraded slowly…"

Bobby nodded and took the phone, clumsily using his left hand to begin the laborious process of dialing.

**SPN**

It was during church that Sam felt the pocket of his dress slacks buzz. He ignored it until a minute later Dean's jacket pocket also started buzzing. When Dean nudged the call to voicemail Sam's started going off. Paula glanced at her sons standing beside her and whispered, "Just take the call, I'm pretty sure it'll be less disturbing than your pockets buzzing the whole time. Clearly someone's trying to reach you."

"Thanks Mom." Sam blushed as he and Dean took the side aisle and snuck out the narthex to the parking lot.

Dean didn't recognize the number when his cell buzzed a second time, but he picked up. "Hello?"

"Took you long enough. Do you know how hard it is to dial a rotary phone with your left hand?!" Bobby chastised over the line.

"Can't say I do." Dean remarked. "What is it? We're in church and my mom's gonna kill us if we miss communion."

"Our yellow eyed friend has the Colt."

"What?! How is that even possible?" Sam's mind reeled at the sudden news.

"R.J.'s still human, and our friend has him doing whatever he needs."

"So he had him get the gun from the cabinet, but how did he know where it was?" Dean glanced at Sam.

"Hell if I know. He probably had someone scout out and follow it without us knowing. Demons are creative bastards when it comes to finding stuff."

"Now what?" Dean glanced at the receiver.

"Now I sneak out of a hospital single-handed and you two get your asses here."

"You're in a hospital?" Sam looked at Dean, concern evident in his tone. "What happened?"

"When I said I was escaping single-handed-it wasn't a figure of speech."

"Jesus, Bobby…" Dean exhaled.

"I'll live. But get here ASAP or we might not have anything left to live for!"

Dean flipped his phone shut and started back toward the church.

"Come on, we have to go to Bobby's." Sam stated, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"First communion. Then Bobby's. I don't know about you, but I don't want to face Mom's wrath."

"Fair point." Sam stowed his keys and quickly followed.

**SPN**

It was nearly four when the boys arrived at Bobby's-they had decided to carpool and take Sam's car, despite Dean bitching about how it was a _plastic German quasi-fascist hunk of boring_. Dean knocked on the door and blanched when Bobby opened it. Bobby was dressed in his normal attire, but he was a shade paler than usual and had a copious amount of bandages around his right wrist.

"Bobby, are you okay to be here? I get that you wanted to help, but you look pretty rough…" Dean glanced at his hand and then at his face.

Bobby exhaled, "I've survived worse…" He paused, "Well, I've survived nearly as bad-just get in here." He led the two into the dining room. It had been transformed into a war room, with all of Elkins' notes arranged on the table and a large map posted on the wall. On it there were a handful of circles, each with dates written around them.

"What's all that?" Sam pointed at the map.

"That's the locations of every entrance to hell in America." The map had nearly a dozen points, stuck seemingly at random.

"Then what's with the dates and everything?" Sam poked at a pin in south-eastern Pennsylvania.

"The dates are the days when they're most active." Bobby picked up a sheet of paper and pinned it overtop the map, "Ley lines are supernatural corridors, they carry energy through our world. Each of these openings is at the intersection of at least two lines. Certain lines are stronger during certain times of year…" He pointed at a pin in Kansas, "This one, for instance, is in Stull Cemetery."

"That's right outside of town-in Lawrence." Dean stated.

"Is he going to come through there?" Sam thought of the ironic twist that would be.

"No, that point isn't active until the fall. We're heading here-" Bobby pointed at a point in Wyoming. "Fossil Butte Cemetery, the last trace of a long gone town in a stretch of absolute nothingness." He paused, "But we're kinda lucky…"

"How is anything that has happened in the last 24 hours lucky?" Dean quipped.

"Fossil Butte is located in the middle of a massive devil's trap. Iron rails in a pentagram join five churches to make a massive barrier against hell escaping. Provided it's still intact."

"So we get to this hell portal, stop them from unlocking it, and avert the apocalypse. Easy enough." Dean exhaled, knowing that it would be anything but.

**SPN**

The three departed from Bobby's, armed with limited training and a seriously freaked out Sam. _If I'm possibly a vessel for the ACTUAL DEVIL, then there is no fucking way I can screw this up…_ The ride to the abandoned cemetery was quiet and it was just nearing evening as Bobby turned off the lights and the three stepped out of the station wagon, what struck them was just how eerily quiet it was, it was entirely devoid of wildlife.

"This has to be a trap." Dean eyed the others as they approached the crypt in the middle of the cemetery.

"At this point we don't have much of a choice, even if it is." Bobby remarked, nervously eyeing the two young men whose lives he held.

A slow clapping began to echo through the cemetery as Yellow eyes and R.J. appeared. The former appliance salesman sneered at them, sporting a set of yellow eyes of his own. "Well, I guess we have a challenge tonight R.J.," He turned to stare directly into Sam's eyes, "I'd figured we'd meet again, Sammy… Shame it isn't going to be for very long." He flicked his wrist, "Light 'er up, fire-boy…"

R.J. obliged, he charged at the three, engulfed in flames as Yellow opened the gate by inserting the colt into the Colt mausoleum. He grinned as the lock clicked open and plumes of smoke poured out of the open door.

"No!" Sam shouted as he watched dozens of demons escape.

"Not the big problem right now!" Dean yanked Sam behind a tombstone as R.J. launched a torrent of fire toward them. Dean grabbed Sam by his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye, "Sammy I need you to focus right now. Yes, there are demons escaping-but they're trapped. And even if they do get out Bobby and other hunters will stop them. We have a pyromaniac with self control issues and the devil's number two trying to kill us. No pressure, but maybe time for some of that great telekinetic stuff you've been practicing."

Sam steadied himself and nodded, _Dean's right. Focus on stopping R.J. then we get the gate closed._ "Okay. We've got work to do." Sam inhaled deeply as he glanced out of his hiding spot. R.J. was busy trying to torch Bobby and Azazel was admiring his protégé's handiwork. He inhaled deeply as he focused on a stone and slung it at the back of R.J.'s head, causing the man to growl in pain and immediately turn his attention to the younger Beretta. "R.J. I don't want to fight, please just listen to me!"

"Well, I want to fight. So that's what I'm going to do!"

As R.J. stalked toward Sam-who was hurriedly launching more pieces of debris at R.J.-Dean crept along the outer edge of the cemetery toward the crypt that was spewing out demons. Yellow eyes was busy, having had taken over the fight with Bobby, and was busy launching him back into a tree-_Sorry Bobby!_-as Dean slunk behind the mausoleum and started pushing the door closed. _This thing weighs a fucking ton!_ Dean strained as he braced against the door, praying that the others would keep the two busy for just a few more seconds. He finally got it shut and turned the Colt out of the lock when he felt himself slammed against the spire of a large tombstone.

"Alright you little shit!" Azazel was practically boiling his distraction with Bobby ended, "That's enough!" He held Dean and Bobby in place as he strode up to Dean. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that, Dean?" He bit down as he clenched his fist, "I had a simple plan, I had everything I needed, and you still try and fuck with me?!" His eyes suddenly shifted to a glowing copper, "I'm going to kill you-and that's going to be the nice part. I will rip you to shreds every chance I get in hell. You are going to-"

Dean felt the power release as he slid down the stone obelisk and Bobby hit the ground. Sam was standing on the other side of the graveyard, the Colt in his hands and blood pouring from his face. Dean looked down, there was a bloody smear beginning to appear on Azazel's torso, then he disintegrated leaving nothing behind except for a few scraps of clothing.

Everyone was silent for a minute as they processed what had happened. Bobby was the first to speak.

"Sam, you okay?"

Sam nodded, wiping he blood off his mouth. It was clear he'd been bleeding profusely, "I'm okay."

Dean looked again at the pile of clothes, then at Sam, "What about R.J.?"

Sam looked down, "He's dead too." He turned to indicate the body further in the shadows. "I hurt him… I told him I didn't want to…"

"You didn't have a choice." Bobby provided. "It wasn't ideal, but you tried."

Sam felt tired and woozy all at once, staggering slightly before Dean caught him. "I've got you Sammy. Let's just get you home."

Hey everyone! Note from the author. Sorry if the battle wasn't as intense as you would've liked. I'm not great at writing action scenes and I reworked this one a few times, but this one was the best I managed. In any case, I promise the other ones are better-thanks for sticking with me!


	22. August 22, 2006

**August 22, 2006**

"I just don't know why you won't talk to me anymore!" Alex crossed his arms as he sat down on the sofa.

Dean sighed, "Look, it's complicated…"

"You ditched me the entire summer and when you get back you're suddenly quiet all the time and barely want to do anything." Alex unfolded his arms, "Plus I heard you muttering some other guy's name last night!"

Dean coughed; he'd had a dream about Castiel. It wasn't actually him (he was sure of that); "It was just some dream."

"With some guy named Cassel or something…" Alex sighed, rubbing his eyes as he looked up at Dean. "Look Dean, I think I know what's going on."

"No you don't."

"Well, I don't have to. I'm done. I'm sorry but I can't take being ignored and potentially cheated on." Alex stood up, "Don't call me."

"Wait…" Dean tried to catch him on the way out, but he had the door slam in his face before he got a chance.

_Good fucking job Beretta. _Dean sighed as he sat down. He had been dating Alex for almost a year-easily his longest relationship-and while he wasn't wrong, _We have been growing apart_, Dean hadn't wanted it to end. He stood up and walked to the kitchen to get himself something to drink before glancing at the phone charging on the counter._ Fuck it._

He picked it up and punched in Sam's number, "Hello?"

"Hey Sammy."

"Hey Dean, what's up?"

"Not much. Might finish getting my room set up later, but I'm free for now. Figured I'd see if you wanted to get lunch or something."

"Sure, why not." Sam shuffled a few papers on his desk, "I've got a bit of time. I already have the curriculum for the class done and at the moment there isn't too much for me to do with research…"

"What time can you do?"

"I'd be free in about ten minutes."

"Awesome. I'll see you in a bit at Gert and Cal's."

"As long as you buy dessert this time-you ate half a pie on our last outing!"

Dean huffed, "It wasn't that much…"

"Of course." Sam chuckled. "See you soon."

"See ya."

**SPN**

Dean took a sip of his coffee before placing the ivory mug on the linoleum tabletop. "Sammy I'm going to say something and I want you to promise not to judge me."

Sam though of how he'd said almost the exact same thing only a few months before and what it had led to, back when he and Dean were entirely normal. "What is it?"

Dean fidgeted, "It's two things, really. What do you want first: door A or door B?"

_Even when Dean's serious he still manages a reference, _"I'll take B."

"I'm gay."

Sam blinked a moment before he responded, "What about Danni, and Taylor, and Alex?" Sam shook his head, "I've seen you date plenty of girls-I'm pretty sure I almost walked in on you with a girl…" He nearly shivered at the memory.

"You did. That was Meg-the first, and only, girl I ever did anything with." Dean bowed his head and placed an elbow on the table to prop it up, "I used to try to like girls. When I first started out I thought, 'maybe it's just a phase, I'll grow out of it…' That's why I started acting macho all of a sudden in middle school. I didn't want anyone to think I might be… different. _I_ didn't want to think I might be different." Dean exhaled, "And as for those three, it was Daniel, Tyler, and Alex. They were all guys."

"Well, I guess that explains why you never seem to date anyone anymore." Sam pushed his spoon on his napkin.

Dean looked up, "Alex and I actually just broke up… And I figured it was time I was honest, at least with you." He rubbed his arm, "I know Mom and Dad would freak out. Father Daugherty and I have had plenty of chats about it… I know what the Bible says, and believe me-if I could choose something else I would."

Sam frowned, "So what if you're gay? You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are."

"Easy for you to say, you're as straight as a lamppost."

Sam huffed and gave Dean a bitch face to end all bitch faces, "Look, regardless of who you're into, you're my brother and Mom and Dad's son. They'll accept you when you decide to tell them, even if it isn't at first. But you shouldn't get down on yourself because you're gay. Take it from someone with regular self-loathing, it sucks-don't do it."

Dean smiled weakly, "Thanks."

"So, what's door A?" Sam ventured, almost afraid of what the option held.

"I saw an angel in my dreams and he told me to watch for you."

"You mean watch out for me?" Sam corrected.

"No, watch for you. Whatever that means," Dean muttered, "It isn't even a proper sentence." He jabbed his fries with his fork, "He said he came to warn me because I 'have a greater role than I know-me and my brother'."

"An angel came into your dream and told you that we have greater roles." Sam couldn't believe he was believing this, "No other details?"

"Nope. One visit and that was it."

"Have you tried praying to him and asking for more information?"

Dean raised an eyebrow, "I don't exactly think that's going to work."

"It's worth a shot." Sam shrugged.

**SPN**

Dean looked up at the ceiling as he folded his hands, "Uh, I don't know if this is gonna work, given that I don't usually pray to specific angels or anything…" Dean exhaled, "But, if it's like the Saints, I guess it's worth a shot. Castiel, it's me, Dean Winchester. We just killed Azazel and stopped a bunch of demons from coming out-though a lot did get free-and I just wanted to see if you could maybe do the whole visionquest thing again and maybe help me out to figure out what's up next…" Dean rolled onto his side, "Anyway, thanks, and I'm sorry about last time, I'm still working on some stuff right now. Amen."

**SPN**

Dean was walking through the streets of a suburban neighborhood a few blocks from his current house. It was a warm spring day and there were people milling about. It was nice. As Dean was about to visit his favorite park everything seemed to suddenly become lighter, as if someone was messing with the brightness setting of his dream. Within a moment he was again in the white void, Castiel across from him.

"I received your message Dean." He remarked.

_God damn even his voice is sexy, _"Good. Um, is it possible for us to go somewhere a little less floaty to talk?"

"Certainly." The two were seated on a bench overlooking a small lake. It was an idyllic scene, a hunting lodge off in the distance. "Is this to your liking?"

"Yeah. It's amazing. I've never been here before, it's gorgeous." Dean was stunned at the beauty of the early-evening scene.

"You have. I cannot create spaces not in your memories. You had a vacation here when you were three years old."

Dean turned to Castiel, "But I can't remember anything before I was five-ish."

"Not all memories are accessible to humans, with time they fade. But I can see all of them as if they were a single ribbon of light; a simple touch reveals anything you have ever experienced." He explained.

"Everything?"

"Yes."

"Including my birth parents?"

Castiel turned toward Dean, "I was unaware that you were not able to access those memories. If you would like I can show some of them to you."

Dean nodded before he was suddenly standing in an unfamiliar kitchen. There was a woman humming to herself as she cooked something. She was smiling. A click had her turn to the front door.

"Mommy!"

"Hi sweetheart! How was the park!" She scooped up the little boy and kissed his forehead. He smudged it away.

"Gross!" The boy giggled, "It was good. Dad showed me how to hit a ball on the stand."

A man with a short black beard walked in carrying a baseball bat and a duffel bag. "He's getting pretty good."

"I bet! Our little tee-baller is going to hit a homerun one of these days." She smiled.

"I'll be back in a sec, just gotta drop this off in the garage." The man left.

"Alright Dean, let's get cleaned up. Dinner'll be in a few minutes."

"Yeah! What're we having?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs." She smiled.

"I love pschetti!" He grinned.

"I know. That's why I made it." She guided the tot out of the room toward the bathroom to tidy up.

Dean stood silently for a minute. He exhaled deeply and blinked away the remaining tears before wiping off his face. He turned to Castiel, "Thank you." He smiled, "Thank you, so much. I… I can't tell you how much this means to me."

Castiel was puzzled, he felt something shift in his grace for a split second, a flutter of something before he was back to normal. "You are welcome Dean." He opened the rear door and motioned to the back patio. "Now if you would like an explanation of what is forthcoming I can tell you what I know now."

"Yes." Dean nodded, still trying to fully collect himself.

Castiel motioned for him to sit town on the picnic table, "I know you are aware of your brother's tie to the demon Azazel."

"Yeah." Dean knew, he knew _that's why Sammy has his powers_, "But he isn't evil or anything."

Castiel was stone faced, "Dean, your brother bears a demon's blood running through him. He is destined as the true vessel of Lucifer, now that the last remaining viable alternative is deceased. When the time comes your brother will turn. And you will have to stop him from destroying the world."

"No. Sammy's not... There's no way he'd do that." Dean stood up, "You don't know him, he'd never do anything like that. Besides, he's got a tattoo-no possession."

"Lucifer is an angel, he does not possess in the same ways as demons, he-like any angel-must ask. Sam is destined to willingly let him in."

Dean was unsure of how to process what the angel had just said, "He would never say yes to the actual devil."

Castiel looked at Dean intensely, "You truly believe that." He nodded to himself. "In any case, be careful. The time will come and you will need to be ready for your role."

"What's my role?"

"You will find out in due time."

Dean was awake. His clock read 11:43. He sighed as he looked at the ceiling, wishing he knew what the hell to do next.


	23. August 25, 2006

**August 25, 2006**

Dean hadn't spoken to Cas since the dream. _Because there's no way in hell Sammy is ever gonna go darkside and end up the devil's bestie, and anyone who says so fuck off. Even if he is kinda sexy and showed me my childhood…_ Dean sighed as he put the last of the desks into tables. This year he'd been shuffled down to first grade-which meant all of his accrued resources were useless and he had to borrow heavily from Sarah down the hall (at least until she went on maternity leave, then him and the sub were both screwed). The room was pretty much set, so Dean only had to worry about the curriculum come Monday and the start of a new school year.

**SPN**

"…and that is why cuneiform is so essential to the understanding of the birth of civilization." Sam concluded, coughing slightly to the dozen or so bored looking students in his 1:00 class. _And I might as well have spent the last forty minutes showing paint dry based upon the expressions I'm seeing… _"For tonight please read pages 14-38 in the text and write a one-page summary of the relevance of one of the languages discussed." Sam watched as the students filed out and started packing up his things when he heard someone burst through the double doors to the small lecture hall.

"Please hide me!" It was a terrified looking blonde, she was disheveled and carrying her purse close to her chest.

"Sure… get down here." Sam gestured to a storage closet behind the pull-down screen where the projector controls were stowed. Within seconds of hiding in the closet a guy pushed open the door. He was tall-even bigger than Sam, which was hard to do-and clearly athletic. He was wearing a stained grey t-shirt and jeans and smelled like alcohol. Sam looked up at the man, "Can I help you?"

He blinked, trying to think of a reasonable excuse, "I'm looking for my sister, some guy was after her."

_Yeah right you piece of shit, _"What does she look like? If she's in my class I can try to call her and tell her you're looking for her."

"No… that's alright, I'll keep looking around." He turned around and walked out of the room.

Sam waited until he left before he clicked the door shut and locked it. He walked over to the closet and gave it two small taps, "Hey, I locked the door-he's gone-you're safe now."

She opened the door, her eyes red and her eyeliner beginning to run. "Thank you!" She hugged him.

"Who was he?" Sam asked, clearly concerned.

"My ex-boyfriend. He broke into my dorm and tried to…" She paused.

"It's okay… I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me anything. I'm going to call campus police and have them search for him. Do you have somewhere safe to stay? Someone he doesn't know about?"

"No. He knows my friends, and they wouldn't believe me if I told them… He… he seems like a nice guy, but he gets really dark…"

"What about family? Are your parents close?"

"No. I'm from California." She rubbed her eyes.

"Well, we have to figure out something. You can't stay in your dorm if he broke in."

It was a minute before either of them spoke again. She was rubbing her arm as she spoke, "Are there any hotels near here? I just started here, so I don't know the area."

Sam frowned, "Not really, at least nothing without bedbugs or shady back-deals."

"Well, it doesn't matter much anyway-I'm pretty much broke." She sat down in the first row.

"I know the feeling." Sam muttered.

"Could I spend the night with you?" She paused before speaking rapidly, "Like, not romantically or anything, but like, because you seem like a decent guy-_though I don't have a great track record with that_-and you're from the area… And…" She shook her head, "Never mind, you could be married for all I know."

Sam opened his mouth before exhaling, "I'll let you stay the night. But in the morning you need to file a police report and work out something with the housing department here. I have a spare bedroom, so long as you don't mind the dust."

"Thank you." She smiled weakly. "God, I must look like a wreck right now."

Sam smiled, "I've seen worse. Come on, I'm parked out back-we can use the back exit."

"Thanks-" She stopped, "-I just realized I never learned your name."

"I'm Sam, Sam Beretta."

"Jess Moore." She stuck out her hand.

**SPN**

By the time Sam got home Dean was waiting for him and Jess.

"Who's the guy out front?" Jess asked nervously.

"That's my brother Dean. I told about what's going on. He must've come over to see if everything was alright." Sam explained as he parked the car in the driveway.

"Hey Sammy." Dean waved his hand. His eyes were guarded with a level of alertness that Sam usually saw reserved for his matches. He nodded at Jess, "Is everything alright?"

"Better now." She half-blushed, "Thanks to your brother."

"Good. I promise Sammy and I'll make sure you're safe until you get everything taken care of."

"Dean…" Sam protested.

"No offense Sammy but you're a toothpick. You're a bit better because of Bobby, but need I remind you who has a black belt and does rugby on the weekends?" He nodded at his brother and then Jess, "You both need protection if anything happens."

Sam rolled his eyes, _Thanks for calling me a weakling in front of someone who I'm trying to protect, _"Fine."

Sam unlocked the door and the three entered the house. "The guest room is right through there, the bathroom is next to it in the hall. If you need anything, let me know. I'm going to get started on dinner." He pointed at the entry to the hallway. She nodded before going into the bathroom.

After dinner Jess went into the guest room and locked the door behind her.

"So what exactly happened? All you said was that a girl at school was coming home with you so she'd be safe." Dean twisted the cap off his beer.

"I don't know everything." Sam glanced at the door. "Something happened with her and her ex-boyfriend. Apparently he broke into her dorm and tried to do something. She escaped and ran until she got to my classroom and I hid her when her ex came looking for her. She's new in the area and didn't have any other options, so she asked to stay here. I told her only the night and she needs to go to the police in the morning."

Dean was scowling, "If that creep was trying to do something to hurt her I'm gonna hunt him down and kick his ass."

"Dean…"Sam cautioned.

Dean sighed, "Fine, I won't actually kick his ass. It'd be nice to, though." He frowned.

"Let's just see what happens in the morning. Hopefully it'll all go well." Sam took a sip as Dean nodded.


	24. August 26, 2006

**August 26, 2006**

**Potential trigger warning for domestic abuse/sexual assault**

When Jess woke up she was acutely aware of the fact that she was not in her normal bed. For one, her dorm had a twin, which while large enough for the relatively petite woman, was still smaller than she preferred. She rubbed her eyes before her memories began to seep through the fog of exhaustion that had held her. _Shit. What about Nelson?_ Jess knew that Sam and Dean were looking out for her, but Nelson was a psycho and could very well have tracked her down… She inhaled deeply, not wanting to leave the safety of the locked bedroom. The clock read nine-which meant she'd slept over twelve hours-so she forced herself out of the bed and to the door, cautiously opening it. She glanced in the hall and saw out into the living room. Dean was sitting on the couch watching something on TV while chatting back to Sam in the kitchen. _Good. It's safe._

"Morning Jess." Dean looked at the woman as she exited the hallway, "Sam made breakfast earlier and saved you a portion. If you want it he can nuke it for you." Dean motioned toward the kitchen, where Sam was busy fiddling with a stand mixer. He had a vegetable spiralizer attachment on it, but it appeared to be giving him a difficult time.

"Thanks. I'm not really hungry." Jess hadn't eaten much at dinner the night before, and today she still wasn't very much in the mood to eat.

"Well, I suggest eating something. You'll need energy for when you give your statement." Sam looked up from the mixer. "I know it's intimidating, but you need to tell the police what happened. I only saw the aftermath when he came into the classroom, you were there for all of it."

Jess uncomfortably gripped her arm.

"We'll both be there. I promise." Dean added.

**SPN**

The Lawrence Police Department was located in the city hall, off the first floor lobby through a set of large wooden doors. Dean had never actually been to a police station before, so he was impressed with the chatter present of the various officers moving around the bull pen as he stood by the reception desk. "Hello, my friend and brother would like to make a statement regarding a case of…" He paused, _Actually I don't know what. _"…Well, I'm not sure, but it involves her boyfriend and things not going well."

The woman at the desk nodded, "Certainly sir. We can have someone take them to one of our interview rooms and have them make a statement, and if needed we can begin the process of opening an investigation if there is a concern."

"Is it possible for me to go with them, for emotional support?"

"Certainly." She smiled kindly. "If you will be willing to wait I can have someone meet you in a few minutes.

Eight minutes and seven seconds later the three of them were sat abreast a table in an interview room. Unlike an interrogation room designed to intimidate criminals, there were no two-way mirrors or chains on the table. It was a tan room with a large table and a few chairs in the middle. If not for the video camera in the corner it could be a standard meeting room in any office building. An older Hispanic man with a thick mustache was sitting across from them. He'd introduced himself earlier as Officer Rojas, and seemed to be genuinely interested in helping.

"Before we begin I have to remind you that putting in a false report is illegal, so please refrain from exaggeration or speculation. You may state feelings, but please make sure to identify it as emotion. My goal is to get as many of the facts as possible so that if there is an illegal act we can move forward appropriately." He stated calmly.

"Of course." Sam nodded, looking gently at Jess, then looking to his brother on her other side.

"When you're ready you can begin."

Jess exhaled, clearly on edge as she swallowed her anxiety and began, "My name is Jessica Moore, but everyone calls me Jess. I was dating a guy named Nelson Burke for a while, and he seemed like a nice enough guy, if a little clingy. We broke up and he started showing up all the time where I was. At first it was just at social things, like parties or at the same cafeteria or something, but it always seemed too convenient. None of my friends really thought anything of it because he was a nice guy. A few days ago I came home to find a note on the door to my dorm and a box of candy for me. He was trying to get back together. I called him to let him know that I got the chocolates, but I didn't want to get back together-I was too busy to date because I was working on too much at law school… He hung up after that, but I got a bunch of texts later saying I was a bitch and that I was going to regret dumping him…" Jess uncomfortably fiddled with her sleeve.  
"Do you have those texts still?" Rojas asked.

"Yeah. Those and a bunch of other ones from later. He started threatening me and telling me he knew where I was when I was out at different places. It was freaky." Jess paused, uncomfortable.

"Did anything happen besides that?"

"Yes. Yesterday I got home from my last class and was starting to put away my stuff when I heard a noise from my bathroom. I knew my roommate wasn't supposed to be back, so I went to check. When I opened the door he jumped on top of me and held me down…" Jess rubbed her eyes, her voice cracking as Sam offered his hand and Dean supported her as best he could, "…and he tried to take off my clothes, but I broke free somehow and ended up running." Jess was sobbing as she put her face behind her hands.

Sam was turning bright red with anger. He'd known something was wrong, but he hadn't known it had been _that_. "That's when she found me. My class was over, but the door was open. I hid her in a storage closet when her ex- came in looking for her. I asked if she had somewhere safe to go, and given the lack of options, she came home with me. I called campus police yesterday to report him, but was unaware of the full extent of the situation."

Officer Rojas nodded as he finished jotting down his notes on the police report. "Miss Moore, I understand this is difficult for you, but did you receive any injuries as a consequence of the restraint?"

Jess shook her head, "No."

"Good." He nodded, "I am going to be passing on this information so that we can begin the process to apprehend Nelson. Thank you for your time and willingness to come forward, it is often challenging. I advise continuing to avoid areas familiar to him, we will be conducting a sweep of the college campus to see if he is in the area. Until we have him in custody I suggest continuing to stay with your friends."

Jess nodded silently, working to restrain her tears. Sam helped her up as the three exited the room, then the station, before returning back to Sam's.

**SPN**

Dean grabbed Jess' things from her apartment shortly after dropping off Sam and Jess. Her roommate was curious as to where she was, but Dean insisted on being secretive for Jess' protection, _after all who knows what could happen if her ex- found out where she was_. Eventually he relented and allowed her to speak to Jess over the phone, who okayed Dean taking some of her things.

Dean returned with a few cardboard boxes. It was mostly clothes, with some hygiene stuff and her laptop and phone on the top. Jess brightened considerably when he came in.

"Thank you so much, Dean!" She nearly leapt onto him to give him a hug. She quickly rooted through the boxes to see what was there. "I'm sorry of Tara gave you a hard time. She's a good roommate."

"I've dealt with worse." Dean smirked, sharing a quick glance with Sam.

"I think things should be fine now, with the police looking for him. If it's okay with you two I'm going to head back to my place." He turned to his brother, "And for God's sake, you need to get a pull-out. That couch is horrible!"

Sam rolled his eyes, "I think we should be fine." He turned to Jess, who nodded, " I'll call to check in later."

"You sure you're okay? If you aren't comfortable I won't go."

"I'm okay. Thanks." She smiled nodding at Sam.

**SPN**

Dean glanced at the clock. It was nearly four as he rolled the pen across the counter another time. The phone was mocking him, it felt like. He'd called Bobby plenty of times since Sam's first incident, but this one was different. He inhaled deeply as he picked up the receiver and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bobby, it's me."

"Hey Dean, how's it going?"

"I'm okay-and so is Sam."

"So, what's going on?" Bobby smirked, knowing that Dean usually didn't make social calls.

Dean exhaled, "Well, there's two big things right now… So pick your poison."

"Let's hear the worse of it first."

"A girl, Jess, is staying at Sam's house."

"Well, Dean, your brother is a grown man. He can have a romantic life if he wants." Bobby chided.

He huffed, "I didn't finish. She's staying there while the police track down her ex-. I'm not gonna go into a ton of details, but let's just say he wasn't a good guy."

"Shit. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine now. She and Sammy made statements today and the cops are looking for him."

"Good." Bobby stated firmly, "So, what's the other thing?"

Dean hesitated, "You know how earlier you were talking about Sam having a romantic interest with Jess?"

"Yeah."

"What if Jess was a guy?"

"Is Jess a guy?" Bobby asked.

"No."

"Then I don't see why it matters. Even if Jess was a guy, that's Sam's business. As long as its two consenting adults I don't give a damn what happens." Bobby paused, "Are you trying to tell me something about your brother?"

"No." Dean said, panicking, "Sammy's straight."

Bobby blinked as the wheels clicked into place, "Dean are you…?"

Dean breathed, "Yeah. I'm gay."

"And you thought I wouldn't like that."

"Well, I kinda assumed-given that you're an old guy with a penchant for guns and you're dog's name is Rumsfeld."

"Dean, I honestly don't care. As long as you're happy, you can be with whoever you want."

"Thanks Bobby."

"Have you told anyone else yet?"

"Just Sammy."

"Well, in any case stay safe. Let me know if anything changes, and maybe a social call would be nice every once in a while. I have enough dilemmas constantly falling into my lap."

Dean smiled, "Alright Bobby. Talk to you soon."

"You better!" He laughed as he hung up.


	25. August 28, 2006

**August 28, 2006**

**Potential trigger warning for domestic violence**

Waking up to someone else's screams is never a pleasant experience. Waking up to someone else's screams who you know is even less so. So when Sam woke up in the early morning to Jess screaming across the hall he was on high-alert. He quickly rolled out of bed and opened the door to his room. Jess' door was still closed, but he heard muffled cries of distress through the door. He crept to it and flung it open, hoping to get the jump on the unknown intruder.

"Holy shit."

Nelson was standing in the middle of the room, holding a gun to Jess' head. She was struggling against the makeshift gag he'd tied around her mouth as he held her in one arm, the other aiming at her forehead.

"Get out of the way. I'm going to take back my girlfriend, if you get in my way it won't be pretty for anyone."

"Look, just put down the gun…" Sam cautioned.

He clicked off the safety. "I said, get out of my way."

Sam mentally flung the gun from his hand, the sound of a metallic clatter indicating it had been thrown to the far end of the room. "Let her go."

Nelson was taken aback for all of a moment before he threw Jess to the ground and pulled out a knife. "Okay, freak, I don't know how you did that, but I don't care. I'm taking her with me, and you're not stopping me."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "I beg to differ."

As Nelson lunged forward, Sam dodged to his left, leaving the larger man to stab nothing but air. As he turned to regain his trajectory he was suddenly smacked in the head by a table lamp, then a clock radio, before finally having the dresser fly across the room and pin him to the wall. Sam's nose was bleeding as he concentrated on keeping the dresser in place while helping Jess up from the ground and undoing her gag. "Come on, let's get outside."

Twelve minutes later the police were escorting Nelson from the house as Sam and Jess sat on the curb in the flickering red and blue lights. Dean had arrived a few minutes before the police, and while intent on beating the shit out of Nelson, was stayed by Sam, instead verbally berating the man as the police arrested him. It transpired that Nelson had followed Dean's car-_because there's like, two fucking people who own a Celica in this town, let alone a jet black one-_and had been staking out the house for a time to kidnap Jess.

**SPN**

It was early morning by the time the police left. The house had been photographed, evidence collected, and interviews taken. By the end of it everyone was exhausted.

As the last cruiser left Jess turned to Sam, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Sam nodded.

There was silence for a moment before Dean spoke, "Is anyone else absolutely starving?"

"Are you ever not hungry?" Sam snarked, "But yeah, I could eat."

"I got my appetite back, so I'm ready for something." Jess said, stretching as she stood up.

"I think know the perfect place." Dean smiled.

Sitting in their usual booth at the diner, Sam and Jess were across from Dean as their breakfasts arrived. Dean beamed when his stack of strawberry pancakes with bacon arrived. "Hell yeah!"

Sam rolled his eyes as he graciously accepted his egg-white omelet-_the only even marginally healthy item on the breakfast menu-_and Jess nodded as her western special arrived. The three were earlier than the usual breakfast crowd, meaning that aside from a few people at the counter the diner was mostly empty.

The breakfast was relatively quiet until Jess worked up the nerve to speak, "Sam, how did you do all that stuff, like the lamp and dresser moving on their own?" Jess almost whispered.

Sam inhaled as he took a bite of his eggs, nearly choking as a result. After he sputtered for a moment he replied, "I… Um…"

Dean glanced to check if anyone else was listening in-which appeared to not be the case-before he spoke, "You might as well be honest at this point, Criss Angel."

Sam sighed, "To give the condensed version, I have telekinetic abilities. I've had them for a little while now, and I've been training so I can use them. I also used to have visions, but I've learned to block those out. When I strain myself and use them more than I'm used to I can get nosebleeds, which is why I had one with the dresser. I'm not really used to moving stuff that big, then holding it in place for a while."

Jess tilted her head as she processed everything that he'd said, "So, ESP, and psychics are real?"

"Some of them, yes." Sam replied. "Some are just regular people who are scam artists."

"So, where did you get your powers from?" Jess asked, "Not to sound like a superhero comic, but there has to be some cause, right?"

Sam blanched, "Yes…"

"But he'd rather not mention it." Dean interjected.

"Sorry-I didn't know it was a touchy subject."

"It's fine." Sam exhaled, "But just promise you won't think differently of me if I tell you."

"Sure. How bad could it be?"

Sam swallowed, "A demon named Azazel was planning on raising his master Lucifer, the literal devil, and decided to create an army of children who had demon blood that he might use as a physical vessel for Lucifer. He fed me-and the others-demon blood on our six month anniversaries. The blood took a while to take effect, and I didn't even get my telekinetic powers until after he tried to kill me the first time!"

"The only reason he survived was because he went into a diabetic coma and passed out, so Azazel thought he was dead." Dean added.

"Jesus Christ…" Jess put down her fork. "So, wait, does that make you half-demon or something?"

"No. He's still human, and he isn't evil or anything." Dean quickly defended.

"So, is this Azazel guy still trying to kill you?"

"No, he's dead. I shot him with the Colt, him and R.J." Sam tapered off.

"R.J. was a special child who Azazel had brainwashed into following him. Sam stopped him from unleashing hell on earth."

"And I killed an innocent guy from New Jersey!"

"He wasn't innocent. R.J. was following Azazel and you made a tough, but necessary, call." Dean firmly stated.

The table was silent a minute as Jess processed everything that had been said. "So, just so that I get everything completely clear: you're human but have special abilities because of demon blood from a demon named Azazel who wanted to raise the devil and unleash hell but you stopped him by shooting him and his henchman with-what I'm guessing is a gun-called the Colt."

"Yes." Sam responded, realizing just how insane he and Dean sounded.

"Alright." Jess exhaled. "I can't believe I'm saying this right now, but I believe you. Partially because you saved my ass with your powers, and partially because you seem too well collected to both be delusional."

Dean turned to Sam, "I'm surprised she took it so well."

"Just one more question, so if demons are real, what else is?"


	26. September 8, 2006

**September 8, 2006**

Dean glanced at the wall clock. It was only 10:18. _Shit. This was supposed to last until 10:45._ He continued moving the tens rods into the hundreds place as he showed the last math problem he had prepared. "So how many tens do we have now that we have regrouped?"

A dozen small hands shot up as at least three students started trying to jump out of their seats.

"Yes, Jamaal?"

"We have two tens left because we took ten to make a hundred."

"Correct. Good job Jamaal." Dean replied, making a check on the young boy's behavior chart. "Now we're going to do a few more examples, only this time I'm going to be writing the numbers instead of using the rods and squares." _Which is supposed to be tomorrow, but I'm out of content for today and it's clear that most of them get it…_ Dean smiled as his principal made notes on the clipboard-_because of fucking course I end up with the first observation of the school year._

**SPN**

By the end of the day Dean was exhausted. First grade was much more energy intensive than third, and it showed. It was the fourth day of school and already he knew he had to reorganize his room because three of the boys in the middle table couldn't stay still, Hannah bolted for the door whenever he mentioned group work (which meant he had to have Jenna add elopement to her behavior chart), and Greg needed to switch to a standing desk-_or at least have a kickback on his chair._ Dean sighed as he unlocked his car and switched the radio to CD, popping in "Hot Fuss" and hoping that The Killer's new album would be as good.

He pulled into Sam's driveway twelve minutes later. It had become custom for he and Sam to check in periodically with each other, and as a result Sam had suggested having a weekly dinner to just relax and not worry about all the other crazy shit in their lives. Dean knocked on the door, looking forward to finally getting to decompress.

"Hey Dean. Come in. Sam's just finishing up in the kitchen." Jess smiled as she let Dean in.

"Hi Jess." _What is she still doing here? I figured she'd've moved back in with her roommate. _"Glad to hear it. I'm starved."

"When aren't you?" She joked as he sat down at the table. She pulled out a chair for herself a moment later, and after a few minutes of small-talk Sam came in with the meal.

"Alright, bon appétit!" He smiled, presenting three plates. It was meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and carrots. Sam's meatloaf was to die for, which made Dean suspicious that there was something important going on, as he rarely made it for non-special occasions.

"So, what's the special occasion? Meatloaf is a 'Sammy's special occasion' food. We haven't had it since dad's birthday." Dean raised an eyebrow as Sam sat down.

Sam sighed as he smirked, "I figured you might catch on…" He paused for a moment looking at Jessica, "Jess is moving in with me."

"Well that was awfully fast." Dean muttered.

Sam rolled his eyes and put on bitchface number six, "No, ass. Not like that. She's moving into my spare room. After what happened at school she isn't comfortable there, and I don't mind the company."

_And it has nothing to do with the fact that she's a hot blonde who's totally your type…_ "And you two totally aren't into each other." Dean crossed his arms.

"Not that it matters if you approve of the girls I date-given how I've never met any of your past boyfriends-"_and how I never knew you even had boyfriends_"-but we aren't dating. We're just friends." Sam warned, his tone rising.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Dean, I know you have a close relationship with your brother after what happened…" Jess began, "But I promise I won't come between you two. Sam and I are just friends. We have a bit in common, but it's just dumb stuff. Like we both watch The Office, and like to read mystery novels."

"And both speak French." Sam added.

"You speak a lot more than just French. You're like some sort of omniglot!"

"Well, yeah…" Sam blushed.

_Seriously?_ Dean scowled as he uncrossed his arms, "Well, anyway, I'll let you two be. I've gotta get going. Thanks anyway for dinner." Dean slid his chair out and padded across the living room before shutting the door a bit harder than usual behind him.

**SPN**

Dean looked at his phone, Sam had tried calling four times already and Dean had ignored them all. _I'm not in the mood right now Sammy. Why don't you just talk to your girlfriend._ He was about to silence his phone when he noticed the caller was Bobby. He flipped it open and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dean. I heard you and Sam had some sort of disagreement earlier."

_Damnit Sam, really? _"Yeah Bobby. And I'm guessing he called you to vent."

"He didn't call me to vent, he called me to ask if I could reach out to you and see what's going on."

Dean rolled his eyes, "I'm sure he knows."

"Dean." Bobby's voice reminded Dean of his own father's stern warnings, often following the young boy doing something he knew was a bad idea and getting in trouble for it as a result.

Dean exhaled, "Fine." He groused, "Look, Sammy got a new roommate, that girl Jess. I know she's not a bad person or anything, because like, I talked to her when we were helping her out, but she stuck around after her ex was arrested. I get that she wouldn't want to back to her apartment-hell, I don't want to go back to that town where we found Sammy-but why does she have to stay with him? Sammy doesn't need a girlfriend and they've got a ton in common, and I swear to God Bobby I know they're gonna end up hooking up!" Dean clenched his jaw.

The line was quiet a moment before Bobby spoke, "Dean, I get that after Sam was taken you've gotten protective of him. After finding out about his powers and everything you've been watching over him because you're afraid others might see him as different. But Jess saw him use them and she wasn't fazed."

"And you know that how?"

Bobby grumbled, "Your brother makes social calls every once in a while to keep me up-to-date, unlike some people I know. Now don't interrupt."

"Fine, sorry."

"Look, Jess is just living with him. If they end up together she already knows the truth and hasn't freaked out. Sam told me she's even been reading up on angels and demons to see if she can help figure out what all is going on. Your brother is a grown man, and at this point it isn't romantic, if it becomes that way you should be willing to let your brother date. He doesn't need protection from everything. You can still look out for him, but don't drive him away by trying to keep him separated from everyone else."

Dean felt his face growing red as he rubbed his arm, "Alright Bobby. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now call your brother and apologize!"

"I'm on it." Dean sighed, hanging up then punching Sam's number into his phone.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Look, I'm sorry. I know I acted stupid and I shouldn't be so crazy protective. If you and Jess like each other, it's fine. I'm sorry I stormed out."

"I get it. I should've been more open and told you sooner. We aren't together, though, just to let you know."

"For now. I saw how she looked at you earlier." Dean smirked.

"Shut up."

"You shut up. You suck at telling when girls like you. You need your gay older brother to notice. It took you forever to even realize Dana Schwartz had a crush on you, it wasn't until I basically spelled it out that you got the balls to ask her to prom."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. But thanks."

"You're welcome. Now get some rest Romeo."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."


	27. September 21, 2006

**September 21, 2006**

"Really, three older brothers?" Sam took a sip of his soda as he rolled the dice. He sat down the RC Cola on a coaster on the coffee table. When he had discovered that Jess also liked Axis and Allies he nearly stampeded to the closet where he kept his copy of the game. While Dean didn't mind playing (he appreciated the historical nature of the game) he got bored after the first hour of playing and usually intentionally starting losing to get the game over quicker. Beyond Dean none of his other friends humored him enough to play it (aside from his birthday), and neither of his parents could manage the rules to be an effective player.

"Yeah. I have Jason, Jared, and James. My parents really liked 'J' names for some reason." She set down her drink as she watched Sam think. "You know you have this little crinkle in your nose whenever you really concentrate, it forces your glasses down." She smiled.

Sam blushed and pushed up the wire framed lenses. He normally wore contacts, but had been having some issues with seasonal allergies and had been forced into glasses the last few days due to his eyes refusing to cooperate, despite the eye-drops and copious doses of Allegra. "Well, I guess that's a pretty lousy tell…" He smiled, glancing quickly at her smile before looking back down at the board.

She rolled her eyes, "Well, I think it's kinda cute."

Sam paused a moment before he responded, "Cute enough to let me win?"

"Not a chance."

It was nearly nine by the time the two had finished. Sam had won, but just barely. Over the few hours the two had managed to connect quicker than most couples did in weeks of knowing each other. Granted, they had known each other for a bit before, but Sam knew that this was the start of something. He and Jess separated into their rooms and as Sam changed he felt happy, _Maybe things are going to finally get back to normal._

**SPN**

It was 8:53 when Dean finally mustered enough courage to knock on the door. He had been sitting in his car for nearly an hour as he had mentally argued with himself. It had taken most of his will-power to drag himself out of the car and across the front lawn. When he reached the porch the forest green paint was suddenly lit by the porch light as the automatic sensor lit up the front of the brick rancher. Dean exhaled as he knocked quickly on the door. His father answered.

"Dean? Is everything alright? It's a bit late." Andrew folded his arms across his body, tucking them into his sweater's pockets.

Dean sighed, stuffing his hands into his jacket against the cool night air, "It is, I need to talk to you and Mom for a minute… I'm sorry it's late, I was trying to put this off and I realized I needed to finally do it."

"Sure thing. Come in." Andrew opened the door, welcoming Dean into the familiar glow of their living room. "Paula! Throw on some coffee, Dean's here and he wants to say something!"

"I'll be out in a second!" A rustling sound preceded her as she left the kitchen carrying a platter of sweets. She smiled as she saw Dean, "Well, don't just stand there like a dead fish! Hug your mother and then take a seat."

Dean smiled nervously and did as he was told, sitting carefully on the red sofa across from his parents' arm chairs.

"So, what is it you wanted to tell us?" Paula smiled as she handed Dean a napkin and a cookie.

_I can't do this. Nope. No way. Lie. Lie like hell, Dean. For the love of God, LIE!_ "I'm gay." Dean blurted out; despite everything telling him he _should've just kept his damn mouth shut_.

It felt as if all the air and warmth had been sucked out of the room. Paula sat frozen, her face halfway between the smile she had with company and confusion. Andrew's lips were pursed in a thin line as he rubbed his forearm, looking at the beige cardigan as if he hoped it could somehow take him somewhere else. The tension remained until Dean spoke.

"I have been for a while. Since I was 17." Dean paused before he closed his eyes and let forth the flood of truth he'd been damming up for years, "I'm not ashamed of who I am. When I first realized it I wanted to pretend that it wasn't me. I acted like someone I wasn't. I put on this macho front to act like I was 'normal'. But honestly, I've dated and had meaningful relationships with men before. I've already talked with Father Daugherty and I am well aware of everything that everyone has to say about it."

Dean exhaled deeply, "I know people will talk-about you and me. And I'm sorry because I know people will judge you for something I am. I love both of you, and thank you for everything you've done. And I hope that you still love me, even if things are different now."

Andrew looked up from his cardigan, his eyes wet as he tried to speak. After a moment he sighed before looking back down, "Dean… This is going to be a challenge. Are you sure? I don't want to force anything, but…"

Paula continued his thought, "…maybe don't tell others quite yet. You might change, I know my friend Linda's nephew thought he was, but his parents sent him to this camp that helped him realize he wasn't."

Dean blinked, "Are you suggested I go to a conversion camp?"

"No!" Andrew responded, "But, we were thinking, maybe hold off. Things might change for you in time."

"But I don't want them to change. I'm happy with who I am." Dean stated firmly.

"We understand, but…" Paula trailed off.

Dean sighed, "…But you don't want the stigma of having a gay kid in a small town."

Paula and Andrew were silent. Dean stood up. "I love you, and I will be open if people ask me. I'm not going to hide who I am anymore. I will not make it a statement, but I intend to be honest from now on." He opened the door into the dark evening, looking back at his parents. They were quiet as he slowly shut the door.

**SPN**

"Cas, if you're there, I could really talk right now."

"Please."

"I just need someone to talk to."

"Someone aside from Sammy."

Dean looked up at his ceiling as he sighed, hoping that the angel would answer. It was nearly midnight, so if he did, Dean likely wouldn't find out until tomorrow in his dreams.


	28. November 8, 2006

**November 8, 2006**

_I really shouldn't be venting like this. Granted, it's healthier than holding it in, but using an angel as a therapist seems wrong somehow…_ Dean frowned as he looked up at his ceiling. Recently he had taken to nightly sessions where he talked with Castiel. Most of the time it was just to talk about his day and everything that was happening, but sometimes it was just for lack of something better to do in his dreams. It was nice, being able to have control over his fantasies and memories. Moreover, it was fun to have someone else along who he was able to share in the fun with. Cas-as Dean had decided to truncate his name to-was a good sounding board for ideas, and often worked well to help Dean figure things out. He was still bent on the whole 'destiny' thing, but thankfully hadn't brought it up too recently, which helped.

When Dean arrived in his dream it was the library again. Charles P. Washington Memorial Library was a short walk from his childhood home, and for some reason the squat floor-and-a-half brick structure stuck in Dean's mind. He knew Cas would be along soon enough. Thankfully the angel had learned to not white-out everything when he arrived, so Dean didn't get the feeling of falling endlessly like the first few times the void had appeared.

"Hello Dean."

Dean turned around, sure enough Cas was standing only a few inches away. "'Evening Cas." Dean smiled. "Have you ever been to a carnival before?"

**SPN**

Dean had been twelve when his parents had finally allowed him to go to the carnival unaccompanied. It had been one of the best nights of his young life. Tonight he was reliving that same evening with Cas while talking more about all the things going on in his life.

"...So Sammy's officially with Jess now." Dean sighed as he smacked a bell game, it's marker nearing the top of the lit-up display. "Which isn't bad-it's just… different."

Cas nodded, "You are quite close to your brother, despite your differences."

"Well yeah." Dean snarked, before correcting himself-aware of his conversation partner's lack of sarcasm detection, "You told me that Lucifer was an angel. I imagine you probably aren't besties or anything, but you don't hate him." He paused, "At least, I assume you don't. I don't think I could ever hate Sammy, even if he did somehow go dark-side, which he totally won't."

The flashing lights in the background cast a shadow on Cas' face as he thought. "You are correct. My brother is fallen, but he is still my brother." The angel's intense blue eyes locked into Dean's. "But you must understand that it is fated as part of the plan for your brother to turn, and when that happens you must be prepared."

Dean scowled as he crossed his arms and sat down at a picnic table near the stand they'd just left. "Sammy isn't evil. I can't prove it, but I know he can. If you hopped over into his dreams he'd be more than willing to show you around and prove he doesn't even consider the whole 'plan' as his future."

"Your brother may not even be aware of the influences that are trying to convince him."

"Then go over and check it out. If he has this stuff messing with him, tell him to cut it out. I know you're dead-set on some battle, but neither of us are going to do it!" Dean huffed, kicking an empty lemonade cup on the ground.

Castiel was silent a moment before he responded, "If it will satisfy you, I will go to your brother and see, then report back."

"Good."

And with that Dean was alone in his memories.

**SPN**

Sam looked out to the water as he felt the warm sun on his face. While he'd only been to the beach once in his life, it was easily one of the best memories he had. Jess was next to him on the blanket, sunning herself as he flipped through a magazine. It was a beautiful lazy summer afternoon, and the best part was that they had the beach entirely to themselves. Or so he had thought.

"Samuel Beretta."

Sam turned; it was rare for anyone to address him with his full name. It was a man he didn't recognize. He was walking toward the couple across the beach, his business attire and long coat clearly too hot for the summer beach. "Can I help you?"

"Your brother told me to visit you." He replied, casting a long shadow across the sand as he stood nearby.

Sam blinked, "Dean sent you? Who are you?"

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord. I have been visiting your brother Dean's dreams at his request."

"So you're the angel that said he had to 'watch for me'." Sam stood up and left his beach chair, "Whatever that was supposed to mean."

Castiel frowned for a moment-his grace having fluctuated at Sam's accusation-prior to his response, "I have told your brother this, and at his behest I have come to tell you."

"Good. Because I'd like some sort of explanation."

"You and your brother are the true vessels, and when the time arises you are fated to welcome Lucifer. As such, it is my duty to warn Dean and prepare him when the time comes…"

Sam crossed his arms as he appraised the man in front of him. "Bobby told me before the whole 'millennium prophesy'. I'm not going to do it, so you can stop insinuating that I'm somehow going to end up evil." Sam tilted his head slightly as the gears all clicked into place, "If Dean really did send you, then I assume it was so that you could see I wasn't planning on pulling an Anakin."

Castiel blinked, unfamiliar with the reference.

"So that I could show you that I am not intending to be evil." _Figures angels don't get pop culture references._

"As he stated, 'If I hopped over into your dreams you'd be more than willing to show me around and prove you don't even consider the whole 'plan' as your future'." Castiel briefly mimicked Dean's inflection as he spoke.

"Which I don't. And considering you don't even know me, I don't think it's exactly fair for you to cast judgment on me-especially for something I haven't even done." Sam raised an eyebrow. "Take as much time as you want rooting around, I have nothing to hide. When you don't find anything, feel free to actually talk to me. Then maybe you'll believe me." Sam huffed as the angel disappeared.

**SPN**

Human consciousness is broken into multiple spheres, each residing within each other. Right now Sam was occupying the outermost layer of his subconscious, residing in a dream state. Below the top layer more layers of the subconscious continued before memories and finally repressed thoughts and urges became present. As a person aged the layers generally increased. Dean had fifteen layers-which was a few more than the average man his age, but explained with his memories being split into three layers-of which he only had access to the topmost. When Castiel departed from Sam's topmost layer he was stunned to find over forty layers.

Beneath the subconscious there were nearly a dozen layers of memories, though the more impressive feat was the twenty-one layers of repressed thoughts and urges. As the angel entered the first layer it became apparent that Samuel Beretta had self-esteem issues. By the third layer Castiel was at a loss for expression. Sam certainly was not evil. He had the makings of a villain, but he intentionally ignored the substantial pain and injuries he had endured-often hiding it from even his family and friends-and instead internalized it until it was coated in enough other layers that it was no longer a sharp pain, but simply an ache that he could ignore. Not dissimilar from how a pearl is formed through irritation, Sam used his pain as a basis for coating in layers and layers of indifference until the pain was dulled.

When Castiel reappeared it had felt like only a moment to Sam, who had returned to his beach chair. The angel looked far less stoic, and if Sam hadn't assumed that he was emotionless from his earlier interaction, he would've thought the angel nearly looked sick.

"You are right. There is no foothold for evil in you. Despite your sufferings, you intentionally choose to place your pain and negativity outside of your conscious thoughts. If the time were to arise, you would not choose willingly to give yourself as Lucifer's vessel. It would have to be done through coercion or force." Castiel ducked his head slightly, pausing as he considered his words. "I am sorry for all that has happened to you."

Sam blinked twice before staring, "What do you mean?"

Castiel paused, realizing that the pain and associated memories were mostly outside of Sam's memories. "There are some memories of your past that you have placed away and made into separate spheres of intense pain and hurt. They are unable to harm you where they are. I will not bring them up."

Sam stared quietly at the angel as he rubbed his arm, well aware of the certain memories he had intentionally removed before he responded, "Thank you."

"I suppose if you would like we may talk, as you had earlier suggested. I do apologize for not believing you… But it goes against what I was told." _Which is deeply concerning for a number of reasons._

"Sure. Let's get a drink and chat." Sam smiled as he stood up and the two walked toward a tiki bar that had appeared a short distance away.

**SPN**

_The younger Beretta has convinced our field agent that he will not be the vessel when the time arises. This will not do, the plan must go as intended._

_Fear not brother, we need only be patient. An opportunity will soon present itself to rectify this development…_


	29. November 23, 2006

**November 23, 2006**

"Crap!" Andrew waved the dish-towel in front of the blaring smoke alarm as Paula watched from the oven, her arms crossed. He balanced on the wooden kitchen chair waving the faded yellow checkered towel wildly to dissipate the air around the detector.

"Andrew, just open a window. You know that waving that rag in front of it won't do anything…"

"No way! I'm not paying to heat the outdoors, and besides, it worked last time."

She rolled her eyes as he continued. He smiled triumphantly as the beeping stopped, Paula already having returned to the kitchen to finish basting the turkey. As he got down the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" He yelled, quickly stashing the dish-towel as he crossed into the living room. He opened the door to see Sam, Dean, and a girl he didn't know standing at the door.

"Paula! The boys are here! And one of them brought a friend!" He yelled back as he gestured for Sam and Dean to enter along with their female companion.

"Coming!" Paula replied, bustling out of the kitchen, her apron still on as she came to greet the group. "Hello Sam! Hello Dean!" She hugged her sons. "And who are you?"

"I'm Jessica Moore, but you can call me Jess." Jess smiled politely as she stuck out a hand.

"She's my girlfriend." Sam added, coughing nervously. _And Mom is going to kill me for not mentioning her sooner…_

"Well, congratulations!" Andrew smiled, "Glad to have you. Can't say we've heard much about you, but we sure are glad to have you!"

"Dinner should be ready in just a few minutes, so wash up and I'll start bringing everything out." Paula smiled as she excused herself.

**SPN**

Six minutes and forty-two seconds later the five were sat around the Beretta's dining room table.

"So, how long have you and Sam known each other?" Paula asked, plating some of her green bean casserole onto Dean's plate.

"It's been around three months." Jess said her voice dropping slightly at the end. "While the circumstances of our meeting were…"

"Less than ideal?" Sam suggested.

Jess nodded in agreement. "…I'm glad that I met him." She smiled.

"Well, I'll have to hear more of that story later, if you don't mind." Andrew added, "But for now it's time to pray."

The Berettas lifted their hands upward to join as they sat, with Jess unfamiliarly joining in.

"Bless us, O' Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive. From thy bounty O' Christ, our Lord, Amen." Andrew nodded as they finished.

Following the prayer Andrew continued the tradition of reading for Thanksgiving, reciting a few passages from the Bible pertaining to the occasion. As he continued Jess had shrunk slightly into her chair; her shoulders slouched as she rubbed her forearm and started to serve herself mashed potatoes.

Andrew quickly exchanged a look with Paula, the two having learned to communicate near perfectly without words after the many years of marriage they shared, before he spoke, "Is everything alright Jess? You look a tad uncomfortable. I can change the temperature if you like."

"No… I'm okay." She smiled, not wanting to offend her hosts. "I'm just not used to all the New Testament stuff."

Andrew exchanged another look with Paula before she spoke, "I'm sorry, are you Jewish? We didn't mean to offend you…"

Sam nervously looked at Jess; they had discussed the possibility of his parents' reactions to her background. Given how they had handled Dean, Sam had hoped that it would be okay, but while generally kind people his parents were quite traditional. "Yes, I am." She said.

"Oh." Paula replied, quietly as the grandfather clock in the corner ticked in the silence, Andrew and Paula exchanging a series of glances that indicated they were discussing something without words.

_Alright, enough is enough._ "Yes. You have a gay son and a son who is in love with a Jewish girl." Dean stated, huffing slightly, "Life goes on. Jess is great, and I'm happy with who I am. Let's skip the awkward dancing around the elephants in the room and just be adults about it. If you don't want to talk about it, fine. But don't judge Sammy _or Jess_." Dean commanded. _Let's just act like we used to before any of this stuff happened._

"Sorry. We didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Paula looked at Jess, "We are genuinely interested in getting to know you."

"And we still love both of you boys, even if things are a bit different now." Andrew added, clasping Dean on the shoulder. "So, if you ever end up bringing a boy home… Your mother and I will make sure we try our best with him."

"Forgive us, but you must admit it is a bit to get used to." Paula laughed, "But you're right Dean, we do need to just act like adults."

Dean sighed, silently looking at Sam-who also was breathing normally again for the first time since walking in the front door.

"So, how about we hear how the professor and our teacher are doing?" Andrew asked, smiling.

**SPN**

The rest of the day had gone smoothly. Sam and Jess had discussed their meeting (with some of the more supernatural and traumatic elements excised), Dean had managed to regain his parent's approval, and everyone had a calm evening as they ate and later watched football on the new television in the living room-_a sixty inch rear-projection model!_ As Dean brushed his teeth he thought about how the day had gone, though one persistent notion wouldn't leave. Eventually he conceded, and in his prayer again requested Castiel to meet with him.

"Hello Cas." Dean smiled as he heard the angel approaching. Dean had commented how it had been unsettling that the angel appeared at close distances without sound, so the angel had started to add normal footsteps to his movements instead of teleporting and gliding silently.

"Hello Dean." The angel nodded as Dean smiled.

"Cas, do you have a family?" Dean looked at the man across from him (_well, angel really_).

"Yes, I have many brothers and sisters. Though not exactly as you do. The heavenly host is a large family, and though we are related we do not often act as closely as humans who share family bonds. Mainly due to your more emotional engagement you are much closer to your relatives. For me my brothers and sisters, while quite close in terms of family relationships, are more akin to coworkers. We work together to provide peace and order, and to combat the ways of evil." The angel paused.

Dean nodded, "Do you ever wish your family was closer?"

Castiel tilted his head. "I suppose there are moments when it may seem distant, but I am comforted in knowing that my family is always there for me, even if in a different way than yours may be."

"Sammy and I are about as close as anyone after everything that happened, and he and Jess are too. We celebrated a holiday today. It was Thanksgiving. Normally you invite your family, but you can also invite friends to join in a feast to celebrate the good things that have happened. A lot of bad has happened this year, but you weren't part of it. Sammy says that you even sometimes stop in to check on him…"

"As per your request."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Well, I think you may be taking a shine to him. For one, you haven't called him demon-blooded or Lucifer's vessel for a bit."

Castiel was silent, so Dean continued. "I wanted to see if you wanted to have a sort-of Thanksgiving dinner. I don't know if Sammy could join, but if not I'd be fine with just living a few memories with you."

"Given his psychic abilities I believe he could transverse the dreams of others, though I do not believe he could given his current inexperience." Castiel stated.

"Well, in that case, let's just take a trip down memory lane." Dean stuck out his hand as the room melted into the Beretta dining room nearly a decade earlier. He pulled out an empty chair at the table and watched as the angel awkwardly sat himself down.

"I'm guessing you aren't invited to many dinner parties." Dean snarked.

"Given that I do not possess the need to eat, it is infrequent." Castiel stated blankly.

"Well, at least try the desserts. This is the last year my Nana was around, and she could really bake." Dean watched as his grandmother sat down at the head of the table. He'd relived this memory hundreds of times. It was the last day he saw his grandmother before the funeral in early December. She'd died two days later, right after she got home from the airport. It was a peaceful way to go; she'd been watching television when she passed-_Mom had found her the next morning when she came over to help with laundry_.

"Are you okay? This memory appears to be causing you some degree of sadness." Castiel stated.

Dean sighed, "I'm actually quite happy. I miss her, but I know she's in a better place." He shook his head, "But enough of that for now, let's enjoy the meal."


	30. December 21, 2006

**December 21, 2006**

**Trigger Warning: Potential trigger for sexual abuse/rape**

"Now, remind me again: why exactly would they want to meet me?" Dean hefted his suitcase into the overhead bin as Sam ducked to avoid his brother's arms from colliding with his head.

Jess sighed, "When I told them about you and Sam and everything that you guys did for me they insisted on meeting you to thank you in person."

"Honestly Sam did most of the work, all I did was stick around a few nights-I wasn't even there to help when he showed up again…" Dean muttered as he sat down.

"In any case, enjoy my parent's good graces and them offering to let us stay with them during the holidays."

"Well, it will be neat to see the ocean again." Dean contemplated as he sat down.

"Yeah, Kansas isn't exactly a coastal paradise." Sam quipped, "Unless you count the vast oceans of corn between the patches of nothingness…"

**SPN**

The plane arrived in San Francisco shortly before eleven, with the trio disembarking alongside a few dozen tourists and many more travelers visiting family for the holidays. As they left the gate and headed for the terminal entrance Jess nudged the brothers and pointed at the small cluster of people near the foot of the escalator. There were a few grown men as well as an older couple holding up a sign, "Welcome Home Jessica! Hello Berettas!"

"I'm going to guess that's your family?" Dean nodded at the group.

"Yup. It looks like everyone's here." Jess stated, smiling widely as she stepped off the escalator and was quickly bombarded with a bear-hug courtesy of the man Sam and Dean assumed was her father.

"Jessy! We've missed you so much!" He set her down and turned to face Sam and Dean. "And you two must be the Berettas. Now which one of you is Sam?"

Sam hesitantly raised his hand as the large man smiled and scooped him up in a hug. Despite being a good six inches shorter than him, he still managed to lift Sam off the ground. "Thank you so much for everything you did!"

"You're welcome…" Sam choked, surprised by the surprisingly strong grip.

"Which means you must be Dean." The woman smiled, "I suppose I should introduce us all. I'm Jen, the man who nearly crushed your brother is my husband Jake, and these are our three boys-Jason, Jared, and James."The three men nodded as they were introduced. "I hope you boys packed swimsuits, we're spending the afternoon at the beach after lunch!" Jen continued.

"That sounds great." Dean smiled as he looked at Sam and Jess-_I think this is going to be a good day._

**SPN**

The afternoon was fantastic-aside from the inevitable sunburn that Sam got as consequence of his pale complexion being out in the warm sun for longer than a few minutes. That evening as Jess applied another liberal layer of aloe vera lotion Dean smirked at his brother's wincing. "I knew you were pale, but I figured you could handle one afternoon in the sun…"

"Well sorry not all of us spend every waking minute at the gym or tanning. Some of us have to pursue more mentally stimulating activities." Sam quipped, having discovered Dean's secret tanning salon membership after he spilled his wallet trying to tip a waitress.

Dean was about to retort when Jess interrupted, "Alright boys, that's enough." She smirked, "I think we've had enough fun for one day. Sam and I are going to turn in."

"At nine? What are you, eighty?"

"No, we're responsible adults." Sam smirked.

"Well, this adult is going to enjoy his night off. I'm going to see what the night life is like around here."

"Alright. Call if you need us." Sam commented, "Stay safe."

"I will." Dean smiled as he sauntered off to change.

**SPN**

After sneaking out of the Moore's back door (because as it turned out Jake and Jen also liked to go to bed early) Dean walked a few blocks into downtown. There was considerably more nightlife here than in Lawrence-both due to the higher population and the more active atmosphere-and it seemed like the kind of place that Dean could get used to. After walking past a few sports bars and restaurants Dean spied a club on the end of the block. The building was a fairly non-descript brick building (much like the others lining the main drag), but it boasted a fairly large pride flag hanging from the second floor. This coupled with the establishment's name-_Dickie's Bulge_-gave Dean a good indication of what kind of place it was.

He paused a half block away, looking at the neon sign before looking back at the lights of a few of the other restaurants. _What the hell am I doing? I can't go in there. If anyone found out they'd kill me. Being gay is one thing, but acting like it is something altogether different._ Dean exhaled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, _besides, it isn't like I'd meet anyone. And even if I did I'm not just looking for a fucking hookup… _Dean turned around to walk back toward one of the other bars when he heard someone call out.

"Hey, you coming in or what?"

Dean turned around to see a man wearing a black 'Security' t-shirt standing outside the bar. _Shit. He saw me. _"Uh…"

"We don't bite." He chuckled, "Well, unless you want us to…"

Dean immediately turned bright red. "Um, I, er, uh…" He stammered, desperately trying to think of something to say.

"I'm guessing you're kinda new to the whole 'gay bar' thing?" He tilted his head. "Am I right?"

"Well, yeah…" Dean admitted.

"Just stay out of the middle of the dance-floor and don't get any of the specialty shots. You'll be fine." He lifted the rope in front of the door and ushered Dean in.

One hour and forty-two minutes later Dean stepped out of _Dickie's Bulge_ and into the night air. He had discovered two things that night. One, being an out-of-towner in a place like this instantly made you attractive. And two, he really hated tequila. As he slowly trudged back up the street-a headache already forming-toward the Moore's he heard a set of footsteps closely behind his. Dean pricked his ears up and started to speed up a bit, the following pair matched his pace._ Okay, what's going on here?_

Dean turned around and the sidewalk was empty. Most of the other bars were still full of patrons enjoying the holiday atmosphere, and only occasionally did someone step outside-usually to puke or smoke-_hmm… _Dean walked quicker as he turned the corner off the main street back toward the residential section of town where the Moore's neighborhood was. Dean coughed as he started walking up the hill, his head feeling light as he became winded with the incline. Before he knew it he was on the ground, everything slowly fading to black.

**SPN**

Dean woke up at 11:18 in an alley way behind a bunch of row homes about a block from where he had passed out. His pants were loose and when he began to become more aware, he discovered that his wallet and underwear were both missing. As he stood up and re-buttoned his fly he felt a pain in his lower torso-one which was familiar, but in this case was anything but pleasant. That, coupled with the warm feeling in the same region, caused Dean to vomit as he doubled over.


	31. December 22, 2006

**December 22, 2006**

**Potential Trigger warning for sexual assault/rape**

The ride to the hospital was the least comfortable experience of Dean's life. Mercifully the cabbie was mostly silent, and when Dean paid using the few bucks he'd stashed in his shoe he didn't ask any questions. The large concrete building was imposing to say the least. Dean knew what the process was for something like this-he had learned about it back in college during a mandatory sexual assault training for teachers-but knowing the steps to do something and actually doing it were quite different. He never wanted to have to file _this kind of report_, even if he did know how to.

**SPN**

It was nearly two in the morning by the time the exam and all the paperwork were completed. Dean was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, courtesy of the hospital, as the police department had taken his other clothing as evidence. Everyone had been nice enough during the process, but that didn't undo what had happened, or the fact that he'd nearly had a panic attack when they started collecting swabs. He'd been able to shower after the exam, but he still felt dirty. As he tried to choke back the bile rising into his throat again he looked at the white walls glowing under the too-intense fluorescent lights. He knew he'd have to call eventually, but he wished he didn't have to.

Sam stirred as he heard his phone ringing on the nightstand. Jess exhaled as she turned away and nudged Sam with her elbow.

"Get your phone…"

Sam groaned groggily as he flipped open the silver clamshell, not even bothering to check the name. "'ello?"

"Hey Sammy." A voice somberly responded.

"Dean?" Sam rubbed his eyes as he looked at the clock. It was 2:17 am. "Why on earth are you calling me at 2:17?"

"I'm at Washington Memorial Hospital. I need you to pick me up."

Sam put on his glasses as he got out of bed. "Are you okay?"

"No. But right now I just need a ride home."

It was quarter to three when Sam pulled up outside of the hospital's emergency room. Dean was sitting on the concrete curb with his hands in his lap, his eyes red and swollen.

"Hey, what happened?" Sam walked over to his brother, reaching down to embrace him. Dean shied away, instead looking at the car he'd arrived in. "Dean?"

"Please don't touch me. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go back to the Moore's."

Sam ran an eye over his brother; Dean looked close enough to normal. He didn't have any visible bruises or cuts. "Okay. When you're ready to talk, let me know."

The ride back was silent, and when Dean collapsed onto the mattress in the guest room he fell into a dreamless, restless sleep.

**SPN**

It was nearly noon when Dean woke up. The rest of the Moores and Sam had already gotten up and had started going about their business. It was the seventh night of Hanukkah that evening, which meant that Jen was going shopping for the final night's feast. The boys had gone out to catch up with a few friends from the area (given that they-like Jess-had also moved away), and Jake was busy with a last-minute client and had to do a few things at his office in town.

When Dean left his room he was greeted with a quiet house, his footsteps muffled by the thick brown carpeting in the hallway as he walked toward the kitchen. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he knew he had to eat.

"Dean?"

Dean turned to see Jess sitting in a chair in the living room across from Sam-the couple enjoying a round of Axis and Allies while the house was quiet.

"How are you? Sam said he had to pick you up at the hospital last night." Her face contorted in worry.

Dean looked down at the floor, "I'm fine…"

"I know you aren't." She stated firmly as she walked over and placed her hand out on his shoulder before he could shy away. "Whatever happened, Sam and I are here to help. Did you get hurt somehow?"

_Yeah I got fucking hurt. I was fucking raped in an alleyway after some guy roofied me and I passed out._ Dean remained silent as he looked away from her hand.

"Dean, please tell us." Sam pleaded as he looked at his brother's face.

_I'm pretty sure this is God's way of saying 'fuck you'. No straight guy would've had this happen to him… It's karma for being me, because after all **I'm a fucking disgrace**. _Dean looked up, his eyes puffy as he inhaled, "I… I got mugged."

"Jesus…" Jess exhaled earning a quick pointed look from Sam, "I'm sorry."

"And he…" Dean choked as he tried to force himself to speak. He grabbed a fistful of hair and shook as he tried to speak.

Sam tilted his head as the wheels clicked into place. He paled as he covered his mouth. "Dean, did he touch you somewhere…"

Dean nodded, his eyes watering.

Jess' eyes widened in horror as she realized the truth, "Dean…"

Dean coughed as he sat down on the floor and began crying, with him finally welcoming their embraces.

It took almost two hours for Dean to tell his story and everything that happened. The police were already looking for the guy and the hospital had made sure to help him and was going to be calling him back soon with some information about everything. All-the-while Dean hated himself and refused to take any form of comfort after the brief initial embrace. He okayed telling the others and then excused himself to get a sandwich, then returned to bed.

**SPN**

Dean did dream the second time he slept. It was pitch black and except for the sounds of his own choked breathing there was nothing to hear. It wasn't a void, like when he was with Cas the first time, he was standing on solid ground with nothing but darkness in every direction. _It was awful_. Dean sat down and covered his eyes, wishing that the pain would stop, but knowing _I don't deserve that. After all, this is all the big guy's way of showing me how much of a fuck-up I am._

"Dean, please do not call yourself that." Cas appeared beside the crouched man.

Dean didn't look up. His dry lips creased as he responded, "Your boss must really hate me, huh?"

Cas' face fell as he sat beside Dean. "My father does not hate you."

"Well he sure has a fucked up sense of kindness then."

Cas averted his eyes as he thought of what to say, "Dean, I am unaware of his plans, the host is never told them aside from a few select individuals. But I can say this; I know that both you and your brother will do great things."

"Well I sure as hell don't feel like that."

Cas looked at his hands as he sat, "May I sit here beside you for some time?"

"Sure."

As Dean looked down Cas placed his hand on his shoulder and leaned his weight against Dean. "I am sorry for what happened."

"Thanks Cas."


	32. December 28, 2006

**December 28, 2006**

Dean closed his front door as he collapsed onto the couch. His "vacation" had been anything but relaxing, and Dean knew that he had to get back to his job soon enough-_which will totally help me deal with it_. Jess' family had been kind enough to not bring it up again, but ignoring what happened didn't make him feel any better. Sam had had an okay enough time with Jess and the two seemed to be having a good time as a couple in spite of everything, _Thank God I didn't manage to fuck it up for them._

Dean got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. While he normally wasn't inclined toward heavy drinking, it seemed to help dull the recent events to a number sensation than the searing shame and pain that was present when he was entirely sober. So, it was what he was doing. _And after all, if I drink myself to death I won't have to tell Mom and Dad what happened._

**SPN**

Waking up in the middle of the night is never pleasant. Being stirred from slumber-whether restful or fitful-is irritating to say the least. Being woken up by an unknown person is that coupled with the fear that arises from someone unknown being in your sleeping place. So when Dean woke up at 11:18 to see a figure looming over his bed he was equal parts angry and terrified. _NO, not again!_

"Dean." A gravely voice responded. "Calm yourself."

Dean could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate, his chest rising and contracting uncontrollably as he clutched his bedspread. _No, please God, no…_

The man stepped forward from the shadows and raised his hand, causing Dean's bedside table to flicker to life.

"Cas?" Dean wheezed.

As the angel placed a hand on Dean's arm he felt his heart calm and his breathing steady. "After deliberation with myself on the subject I have decided to come to your aid."

Dean lowered his chin to his chest as he glanced at the plaid comforter. "Well you're a little late for that." Dean curled up his legs, making room for the angel to sit on his bed. Castiel remained standing. Dean sighed as he patted the mattress and gestured for him to sit.

"I understand that you feel that way. I apologize deeply for not coming to your aid at the moment of your vulnerability. At the time my ability to see was clouded as I was tasked with aiding the host on a different mission. While there is nothing physical I can heal I do intend to aid in your spiritual healing."

"So what, you'll visit me every night in my dreams?" Dean gestured to his bedroom.

"This is not a dream."

Dean blinked, "But… how are you here?"

"This is my vessel; I am here in the form of Mr. Novak in order to assist you in your recovery." Castiel motioned to his body.

"Wait-I don't want you to just possess some guy to make me feel better." Dean waved his hands.

"If it is any consolation he gave his consent, that and he is still aware of all that happens and can direct if he does not wish to take a certain course of action."

_Well, I guess that's okay… _"Alright… So long as he's fine with it."

Castiel paused for a moment before he responded, "He says that it is fine."

Dean stared at Cas silently a moment before he spoke, "So, what, heaven decided its vessel shouldn't be 'damaged goods' and wants you to get me back to normal for the big fight?"

"No. My brethren did not command me to do this. I have taken a leave of them to aid you in your recovery of my own accord. They know where I am, but did not send me-though I did gain approval from my superiors prior to my departure."

"I'm surprised they'd be willing to waste anyone on me." Dean muttered.

Castiel creased his brow, "Dean, I realize that you are feeling a complicated array of emotions right now. My goal is to help you deal with them and help you realize that you are worth something to many people." He placed his hand on Dean's shoulder-an attempt at comforting him.

Dean scoffed, "No offense, but how are you-a being devoid of interpersonal skills and even the most basic feelings-going to do that?"

"I do not know." Cas admitted, folding his hands as he sat on the bed. "But I intend to remain with you until you feel well."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Well, okay… but I can't exactly afford a ton of food as it stands." _My bank account barely clears every month after the mortgage and car payment…_

"Do not worry, I do not eat. Well, I can, but it is not necessary."

_Alright…_ "Okay, I guess you can stay." Dean smirked slightly, "I've had roommates before, first time I've hosted an angel though." Dean paused, "But, just to be clear-you can't tell anyone else who you are except maybe Sam and Jess. People would freak out if they saw a real angel."

"That is logical."

"And if you are sticking around we'll have to try to have you act a bit more 'human' for the sake of any visitors or neighbors…" Dean nervously eyed the stock-straight angel sitting on his bed, eyes laser focused on Dean's. "But let's not worry about that right now."

Dean slid out of bed and walked to the door, motioning Cas to follow. He led him down the hall to the guest bedroom.

"It isn't much, but this can be your room if you want." Dean coughed as he showed the small wood-paneled space to Cas. It had a twin bed and a small dresser, as well as a few decorations on the wall.

"Thank you." Castiel stated, staring at the space.

"Well, I'm going back to bed." Dean rubbed his arm, "Thanks, Cas." _For everything._

"You are welcome, Dean." The angel stood in the center of the room as Dean left. He had a feeling that the next morning he would be in the exact same spot.


	33. December 29, 2006

**December 29, 2006**

He was right.

"Cas, did you move at all last night?" Dean cocked his head as the angel turned to face him. "Because it's kinda creepy just having you stand there for hours on end… No offense."

Castiel blinked as he registered what Dean had said, "I have no need to sleep, so I simply remained still and communed with my brethren. I apologize if it was unsettling."

Dean cocked an eyebrow, "How did you talk to the other angels? I didn't hear you."

"We speak in a different way than you-it is more like-" Castiel paused, unable to convey the method of communication in human terms, "-a radio built into my being that allows me to speak to them."

"Huh, so angel radio?" Dean nodded, "Well, in any case, we humans don't usually stand still for a few hours just zoned out. I don't mind if you do it-but maybe try a chair next time, for one it'll keep your knees from locking up."

"Duly noted." Castiel responded, mimicking the up and down motion of Dean's head-hoping that he was using the motion correctly.

Dean cleared his throat, "Well, I've got a few things to do before we can head out-unless you want to join me for my morning workout."

Castiel paused, "Exercise has been shown as an effective means to combat trauma, as has company with fellow individuals. I feel the combined effects may be cumulative. I would be fine with joining you."

"Okay, but I hope you don't mind-I tend to be pretty intense."

"I believe I can handle it."

**SPN**

After Dean lent Cas an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt (because the angel had thought he was going to work out in a suit), the two started with a circuit around the neighborhood. Cas had no issues keeping up, even as Dean started to get winded during the final mile. By time they returned to the house Dean was flushed, even though Cas didn't have a single bead of sweat on him. Dean went through his weight routine next-Cas just watched for this one, though it was nice to have a spotter-and ended with some stretching. While yoga was not his strong suit, he was continuing his training with it so that when he and Sammy met up to work on his Criss Angel powers he wouldn't be such a schlub at it.

"Alright Cas, I'm done for now. I'll be back in a few minutes so we can go and get you some other clothes and stuff." Dean panted as he headed for the bathroom.

Castiel nodded, understanding that they were going shopping to get him some 'human stuff' as Dean had called it. _While Dean does not appear traumatized at the moment, that is likely due to the distraction of my new inclusion in his life. I will need to figure out what causes him distress in order to work to help him overcome his distress._

He furrowed his brow, _If we are going shopping for 'human stuff', I suppose I should change out of this attire. I doubt many humans would wear exercise clothing in public._ Castiel walked toward the door he'd seen Dean enter and swung it open.

"Cas!" Dean yelled, grabbing the shower curtain.

"Yes?"

"Dude! I'm naked! I just got out of the shower!" Dean's face reddened and his eyes dilated slightly and he adjusted the curtain toward his midsection.

Castiel remained still, "Based on your tone I am assuming that you are uncomfortable with my being in here with you."

Dean's redness moved from his whole face to just his cheeks, "Well…" He coughed, "It's customary to not enter when you know someone is naked somewhere. I'm not used to locking the door, so I guess it's kinda my fault…"

"I will leave."

"Wait." Dean rolled his eyes, "Honestly it really doesn't matter. You're like a little kid-you don't have any idea how sex works anyway, so if I accidentally flash you it won't do any harm." Dean paused, "Wait, that wasn't a good metaphor. Always keep your clothes on when children are present." He sighed, "Just hand me that towel, will you?"

Castiel complied.

"Thanks, Let me get changed and then we can head out." Dean tied the towel as he dropped the shower curtain.

**SPN**

The Wal*Mart in Lawrence was located in a large shopping center about ten minutes from Dean's house. Buried in the heart of suburbia, the large grey and blue building towered over everything else near it. Dean parked his car and the two men walked together through the sliding doors into the main entrance of the behemoth. Cas blinked as the hot-air blowers blasted him in the vestibule, with Dean dragging him out of the way and through the doors-pushing a shopping cart in front of him.

"Well, thank God it's after the holidays, because if not this would be a whole helluva lot more annoying." Dean commented, steering toward the men's department. Castiel remained mostly silent as he absorbed the large shopping center, turning briefly toward Dean to acknowledge that he was listening.

When they reached the men's pad Dean parked the cart and gestured toward the dozen-or-so racks in front of them. "Look around for a bit and pick out a few outfits." He paused, "And try something less formal, maybe?"

Castiel looked down at his suit and back up, "Should I emulate the way you dress?"

Dean blinked in surprise, "No-not really. Just kinda choose what you like."

"I do not know what I like. I am unaccustomed to purchasing garments." Castiel commented.

"Fine, I'll help. What size are you, anyway?" Dean started pawing through a rack of shirts.

Castiel stood silent a minute. "I am unsure."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Ask your vessel."

"He is resting right now. I cannot wake him."

Dean huffed. "Fine. We'll need to check the tags then." Dean quickly added, "In private." _Because you might start undressing right here, which I do NOT need at the moment._

Cas and Dean slipped into a fitting room and read off the sizes on his clothing. "Okay, so you're a 16 ½ shirt and an XL t-shirt…" Dean commented as he handed the garments back to Cas, "Now we need to see what size your pants are," Dean pointed toward the door, "So let me…"

Before Dean could step out the angel had removed his pants and was in the process of taking off his boxers. "Cas! Remember earlier?!" Dean nearly yelled.

He paused-and Dean swore he saw a spinning icon next to his forehead-"Humans prefer to remain clothed in public."

"Yes." Dean frantically stated.

"I understand."

"Good. Give me a minute, then read the tags." Dean unlatched the door and stepped out.

"The pants say that they are made by a company called Haband and are a mixture of polyester, acrylic, and other synthetic fibers. They should not be ironed or bleached." Castiel read.

"The size, Cas." Dean muttered.

"They are 34 waist and 34 height." There was a pause. "Size medium underwear."

Dean blushed slightly at the second mention before he replied, "Okay, get those back on, then we're getting you some stuff to wear.

In the end Cas ended up with a mix of business casual and Dean-esque clothing: a few khakis and some jeans, two polos, a couple of t-shirts (more nerdy ones-like Sam-because Dean had a feeling that there was no way in hell Cas would ever listen to any of the music he liked), some socks and underwear, and a pair of sneakers.

"This way you can have a few different outfits. I know you don't, like, sweat or anything, but if you never changed your clothes people would think you were weird." Dean explained as they checked out.

"That is understandable. Humans shed skin cells at a high rate, and their sebaceous oils and sweat cause odor and discoloration to fabrics necessitating a regular cycle of attire."

"Pretty much."


	34. December 30, 2006

**December 30, 2006**

_"Dean, I believe that you are worth saving." No. He would not respond well to that, given his prior reactions to direct sentiments._ Castiel furrowed his brow as he thought. Dean was still asleep and the angel was busy planning the best way to reach out to the broken righteous man. _Well, former righteous man-given how neither Beretta brother intends to fight and how Sam is actively avoiding any demonic influence._

Sam Beretta was an interesting case, as while he did have demon blood in his system, he exhibited no inclination to do evil-yet despite this he harbored a fair amount of guilt and self-loathing-_an unfortunate common trait in the brothers._ Castiel leaned on the back of the chair in his room and continued his thoughts, occasionally casting part of his consciousness to check on the man in the room down the hall.

**SPN**

Cas joined Dean once again on his morning exercise routine prior to his getting ready for the day. It took Castiel all of a few moments to change his attire-placing the old garments in the hamper beside the bed. He decided to wear a pair of the lighter colored jeans with a t-shirt. It appeared to be referencing some version of the periodic table-_of which humans erroneously believe to be limited to a mere 118…_ Dean was eating breakfast when he returned from his room.

"Dean, I would like to begin talking with you in order to assist in your overcoming the events that have happened and help you to heal in as best a way as I can. In order to begin that process I would like to begin by you simply talking about whatever you please related to your past." Castiel nodded as he spoke. "I have consulted a number of different resources and it appears that verbal expression can help expedite dealing with difficulties."

Dean swallowed his oatmeal and exhaled, "Cas, I know we've talked about stuff in the past in my dreams and all, but right now I'm not really sure if I'm up for it…" He paused, _I don't really think I'm ready for much of anything._

"I understand, and while it may be uncomfortable, I would like you to share. It can be about anything. The important initial step is to establish a clear channel of communication on which we can build to eventually address the traumas and negative elements you are dealing with." Castiel stepped closer, "And as you said, we have communicated in the past. Consider this the same, we are simply talking."

Dean looked up, "Okay. But let me at least finish my breakfast."

"Of course."

**SPN**

"What would you like to discuss?" Castiel sat on the couch, upright at a perfect 90 degrees, as Dean slouched on the chair across the room.

"I dunno… I guess it should be something important, right?"

"That would be best."

Dean exhaled as he looked up at the ceiling, "Alright… Let's see. I guess I never told you about my first kiss."

Cas shook his head to indicate no, "You have not."

"I was thirteen. Middle school sucks for everyone, but especially when you find out you're different and realize that you have to hide it. No one knew about me back then-because honestly it was even more taboo than it is now and I didn't have a death wish. I desperately wanted to like girls, I tried to force it on myself but it never stuck. It was the summer before high school and Mom and Dad agreed to send me away for two weeks to a sports camp in Colorado.

It was an all boys camp called 'Mount Leon'. Every day was a different sport. Granted, I sucked at a few of them, but it was still fun to just let loose and do whatever the sport was. Anyway, we were broken into groups for the cabins. Somehow there was an odd number of guys, so there was one cabin with only two of us and a counselor. Our counselor was a total stoner, so every night around nine he'd go out into the woods and get baked along with a bunch of the kitchen staff-which left me and Derek alone.

Derek was a year older than I was, and he was open about who he was. He didn't care, he could beat the shit out of anyone who tried to make him feel like less of a man for liking men. I admired that. It also didn't hurt that he was jacked-but not in a bad way, like in a still cute kinda way…"

Castiel tilted his head slightly.

"He was attractive. I came out to him on the third night, and turns out he liked me too. So for just under two weeks I had my first boyfriend. It wasn't open-which he didn't mind-but it was awesome. We were too young to know anything much, but I still remember my first kiss was with him on the top bunk as 'Shake it Up', of all songs, played." Dean frowned, "I never talked to him after that, and I kinda wish I would've."

"Despite your shame you still were able to embrace your sexuality and have a good time." Castiel stated.

"Yeah…"

"I think that is sufficient for now. Perhaps we could visit Sam and Jess, given that you have not yet introduced us yet in this plain?"

Dean's pupil's dilated, "Oh. Shit, I knew I forgot something…"

**SPN**

"…so, sorry." Dean coughed as Sam crossed his arms in a false show of irritation that his slight smirk belied.

"So, he's like a real angel?" Jess asked, pointing at Cas.

"Yup." Dean nodded.

"That's the guy who was in your dreams those couple of times?" She whispered to Sam.

"Yeah, only he was a lot dressier then." Sam commented, "I guess Dean must've helped him shop, given the fashion sense."

"Not all of us can wear plaid, sweater vests, and corduroy slacks." Dean coughed, "Hipster."

Sam rolled his eyes and put on a patented bitch-face number four-_like you're one to judge-_"Anyway, come in."

Four hours and countless questions later the quartet split back into their pairs, with Sam and Jess bidding Cas and Dean goodbye. After the Celica left the driveway she turned to him.

"Is it just me, or does your brother totally want to have sex with Cas?"

"Oh thank God, I thought I was the only one who noticed how he was eye-banging him every five minutes." Sam commented as he shut the door.

"I wonder if he actually has anything down there?"

"Hell if I know." Sam commented, "But knowing Dean and a few of the stories he's told me about his exes, he'd make _anything_ work."


	35. December 31, 2006January 1, 2007

**December 31, 2006/January 1, 2007**

**Author's Note**: I apologize for the delay with posting! I recently got a new job and had to relocate to a new city, and as such I have been super busy recently! I promise I will be back to normal posting (2 ish times a week) soon. Anyway, back to the story.

**SPN**

"I understand that this is the end of your calendar year, but I lack understanding of why this bears significance and necessitates that we attend a 'Gala Under the Stars'." Castiel placed the invitation on the table-Dean had forgotten to mention it to him until literally a few hours prior to the party. _Which made sense, given he likely was deliberating being in public at all with the sting of trauma still quite recent and related so closely to parties…_ "However, I understand that this is one of your friends throwing a party for everyone to enjoy the New Year festivities-_despite the actual time of creation being much closer to your concept of 'July_'. I believe that if you are willing, going to it may help you with your recovery and re-acclimation." He paused, waiting for Dean to respond.

Dean inhaled and looked upward, "I guess…"

"Are you willing? If you are uncomfortable I do not want to force you to do it."

"I'll go-but promise if I say so we can leave." Dean hesitantly responded, attempting to maintain control of an evening he was unsure of.

"I promise."

"Well, if we're going, there's one thing…" Dean flipped over the invitation. On the back in large black letters it stated, "**FORMAL ATTIRE IS REQUIRED. COUPLES ONLY.**"

Castiel blinked a moment, "But I already own a suit."

"Not that part…" Dean rolled his eyes.

**SPN**

It was nearly nine when Dean parked his car in front of the large white colonial home. _C.J. has done well for himself, investing in a bunch of different real estate companies that just kept churning out profits. With the housing market as crazy as it is, chances are he'll end up retiring to Boca while I'm still explaining addition to six year olds._ He stepped out and waited for Cas to follow. Cas already had a suit-the one he had worn when he'd arrived-and Dean had dusted off the one from his parent's vow renewal to wear for the evening. As they walked up the brick path he nervously eyed the other partygoers. No one seemed to notice him yet-though surely someone would ask about Cas soon enough.

For his part, Cas had agreed to act as Dean's chaperone for the evening-_his choice of words_. But that didn't help the fact that he hadn't officially came out to all his friends yet-and showing up with Cas certainly wouldn't hamper any gossip. He spied Sam's car parked closer to the house (he and Jess had said they were going to be there around eight), and breathed a sigh of relief-_if worse comes to worse I can duck out and have Sammy cover for me._

Dean rang the doorbell and was greeted with the loudest suit he'd ever seen. Never before had so many flame decals blended seamless with pseudo-tattoo decals.

"Dean!" C.J. embraced him in a bear hug-the husky man's firm grip momentarily knocking the wind out of Dean.

"Hey C.J." Dean smiled, "Never seen a Von Dutch suit before."

"I know! Totally bitchin' right?" He stuck his arms out to show off the many designs.

"For sure…"

"Who's that?" C.J. stuck his thumb out at Castiel.

Castiel nodded, "My name is Castiel. I am Dean's chaperone for the evening."

C.J.'s eyebrow lifted slightly, "Oh… I didn't know Dean was a switch hitter-so to speak."

Dean reddened.

"I do not see how baseball is related to this conversation." Castiel replied-_only knowing the term because Dean had shown him a few old trophies from his sporting career in high school._

"It isn't." Dean stated.

"Anyway, come on in. Almost everyone else is here." C.J. moved aside to let Dean and Cas in. The two walked through the large foyer and into the middle of the house. The massive home had more than enough room for entertaining, with at least four living/family rooms on the first floor (by Dean's count), a library, formal dining room, and large kitchen.

"Your friend certainly has done well for himself." Cas stated as the two neared a group of people.

"Yeah, C.J.'s always seemed to be lucky when it came to money." Dean stated, slowing as they neared the group. Before they entered someone called their names.

"Dean! Cas!"It was Jess. "Come over here!" She motioned for the two to come over. "Sam's doing Bonnie Tyler on the karaoke machine!"

"Jesus, how drunk is he?" Dean glimpsed in to see Sam attempting to hit a high note in the middle of "Total Eclipse of the Heart".

"Actually, so far he's only had three beers." Jess smirked, "But he knows that I love a man who can sing so he decided to get up there."

Castiel stared for a moment, "It is a nice gesture of his admiration toward you and his romantic involvement. Seeing as he is not naturally gifted in this, yet he does it as a sign of commitment to you."

"Well, sometimes you do things you wouldn't normally when you're in love. You just _have_ to show them you love them, even if it means doing something you aren't 100% used to." She smiled. "So, I'm glad to see you two came. How's everything?" She turned to Dean, implying a deeper meaning than the surface question.

"Cas and I are talking and he's trying to get me to work through it-I wanted to stay home, but it makes sense to still see people."

"As long as you're still comfortable." She turned to Cas. "Because the healing process is different for everyone."

"Of course." Castiel nodded.

Sam finished his song and stepped down, walking over to Jess and linking his arm back around her waist. "Hey, glad to see you guys here. Didn't think you'd end up coming."

"Yeah, well, Cas decided to nudge me." Dean commented.

_And my personal calls apparently meant less than the words of an angel you've known for all of a few months at most… _"Well, anyway, I'd love to chat but I promised C.J. a word-I'll catch you in a few…"

**SPN**

"5…4…3…2…1… Happy New Year!" The crowd shouted as the ball dropped on the big-screen in the center family room.

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind…" The television played as a handful who knew the words sang along. Dean watched as some of the couples nearby kissed. Sam and Jess were holding close-their height difference not mattering when Sam kissed her forehead as she giggled. Dean sighed for a moment before he felt a tug on his shoulder. He turned to face Cas who-as always-was standing a bit too close.

"Hey Cas, what's…"

Before he could finish the question he felt the angel's lips pressed against his, the stubbly chin rubbing against his. He felt as if a bolt of lightning were surging into him. It was a split second, _Dean swore he felt tongue_, then Cas was standing next to him as if nothing had happened. Sam had noticed.

"Cas, we need to talk. Outside. Now." Dean grabbed his arm and the two walked out to the rear patio-massive gas heaters blasting the brick space to keep it warm for the guests who decided to be outside during the festivities.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Dean nearly shouted, only keeping his voice low to ensure others did not hear. "I mean, it isn't that I don't like you, but like…" Dean flailed about as he tried to process everything. "I've never been Frenched by an angel in front of a crowd before!"

Castiel was quiet a moment, "I apologize, I realize I was too forward. I should not have acted on the urges I had at the moment."

"No… I mean, Cas, that was great-really, like, I _do_ like you… But like, maybe just say something first." Dean was flustered, his words running together as he tried to sort out the fifty different conflicting emotions running through him.

"You asked me to be your partner tonight, I thought that was you initiating a courtship."

Dean sighed as he sat down, "That wasn't what I had meant when I asked you to go with me. But, like, I do like you." _Hell, I might be fucking in love with you._

"But you had not intended to be in a relationship." Castiel turned his face downward.

"Look, don't get me wrong-you're awesome, but right now I don't know. I'm still dealing with everything-and you're really helping, honestly." Dean smiled, "But I don't think I'm ready for a boyfriend. Maybe we keep the friend thing going for now, and when I'm back to being me we can see about maybe doing something…"

"I understand. I will remain vigilant in helping in your recovery." Castiel stated, seeming as emotionless as ever-though Dean swore he detected some slight dejection.

"Thank you for being my chaperone." Dean stuck out his hand.

"You are welcome." Castiel replied, receiving it as Dean pulled him into a brief hug.

"Let's get going. It's late, and while you don't sleep, I do." Dean wrapped his arm around Cas as the two walked around the side of the house and into the night.


	36. January 3, 2007

**January 3, 2007**

_Just walk in there and act like everything's fine. No one knows. _Dean took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the rearview mirror. It was 7:43 and he had to get inside by 8:00 to clock in. _Man up, you fucking pussy. Just do it already._ Getting back to work was not Dean's favorite idea. Being around people was difficult at the moment, and given how hands-on his students were (frequently grabbing his legs to get his attention), Dean was not looking forward to that sensation.

**SPN**

It was lunch, and so far class had gone well. Thankfully none of his students could tell that anything was off-_and even if they could, none of them would be able to guess what the reason was_. Dean sighed as he bent over to grab his lunch out of the staff fridge in the break room. _Damnit Cheryl, why do you always shove everyone else's lunches to the back?_ Suddenly Dean felt a prod in the back of his pants. It was quick, but it was enough to set his heart racing. Dean jerked upward and was met with another quick prod, this time more central and quite a bit firmer. _No. No. No. Not again… _He spun around.

"Sorry Dean," Nancy Corrigan-one of the fourth grade teachers-stated, shaking out her umbrella. "It's a mess out there and I wanted to hang this up before I get back to the room. Guess I should watch what I'm doing." She smiled to attempt to disarm the accidental contact with her umbrella as she hung it on the wall, but Dean couldn't seem to match her calmness.

"Dean, are you okay?"

"Yeah…" Dean wheezed, his lungs felt like they were constricting as he grabbed onto the countertop. _Calm down Beretta…_

Her eyebrows shot up as she quickly walked over to her panting colleague. "Dean? Are you okay? Do you have an inhaler?"

He shook his head no as his breathing continued to spiral out of control and his brain shouted at him that he should be running away from the danger that had poked him, despite a different part of his brain trying to regain control and say that he was safe. The latter wasn't having much success.

Dean sat down at the nearest table, his body starting to tremble as his breathing continued to break in an uneven pattern, his lungs desperately trying to get oxygen he couldn't seem to bring in.

"Dean, I'm going to get Ana." Nancy motioned for him to stay still as she ran to get Ana Levitt, the school's nurse.

A moment later the older woman had arrived with Nancy. "Dean, I need you to look at me. We're getting you an ambulance, but for now I need you to try to control your breathing…" She calmly directed as Dean felt his body starting to tremble.

"He's starting to sieze…" Ana stated as she grabbed a paper bag from the cabinet, "Breath into this, count to five, then breath out…"

Dean felt his toes going numb as his vision blurred. He grabbed the bag, but his fingers refused to stay still enough to bring it to his mouth, instead jerking as he tried to move his arm into place.

"Dean! Stay with me!"

**SPN**

It was forty-two minutes later when Dean woke up. The first thing he noticed was Cas standing over him. The second was the tube shoved up his nose.

"Cas?"

The angel's forehead was creased in worry, his eyes somehow both distant and incredibly focused on Dean. "Dean, I have attempted to do as best I can to heal you, but it seems at the moment that I am limited in that ability due to the sheer amount of individuals present who are observing us and my not being able to reveal myself to others." He slowly removed his hand from Dean's shoulder.

"What happened?" Dean blinked, his body aching, but he assumed in much less pain than it should be.

"I am unsure." Castiel replied._ It is troubling how fragile humans are, particularly given that I know not what causes all their issues._

As Dean was about to respond the door opened and a doctor came in. "Good! I'm glad to see the oxygen brought you back. I imagine you're a bit sore right now." The man adjusted his glasses as he read a monitor beside Dean's bed. "Up to 98%, we should be able to get you breathing on your own in just a few minutes."

"Yeah…" Dean coughed, his throat still raw, despite what he imagined was some fairly heavy healing from Cas. "What happened to me, doc?"

"Well Mr. Beretta, it appears as though you had cardiovascular and breathing problems-namely hyperventilation and seizing-caused by an internal non-physical cause. In short, something caused you to experience a panic attack."

"A panic attack?" _No way, those are for people with mental health issues-I'm normal. Well, normal enough._

"Yes. I am unsure of the cause, but you may want to mentally go over the events leading up to the event and determine what the trigger might have been in order to avoid it in the future. Given that this is your first episode I think you should be fine, but if it happens again-especially at this degree of intensity-I would recommend seeing a specialist about solutions to help you prevent or treat them."

An hour later Dean was disconnected from the tube and ready to go-though the doctor had insisted on him staying overnight just in case. Dean looked over at Cas, who had been silently staring out of the window for the last fifteen minutes-_probably tuned into angel radio_-before he spoke, "Hey, I wanted to thank you, for, like, everything."

The angel turned. "I see no need to thank me, as I have done little to protect you. I am deeply grieved with myself in my failures to keep you safe both this and the previous time."

"Cas, I know you're guilt-ridden, but you don't have to be. For one, you showed up and decided to try and help me get back to normal-even if normalcy is going to take a while." Dean cracked a grin, "I know that you're trying, and I appreciate it. Together we can do this, even if it is going to take some time…" Dean frowned, _mainly because I'm a fuck-up who can't seem to control himself._

The angel's appearance briefly flickered with a small smile, "I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you. I will continue to pledge myself to your betterment."

As Dean rolled his eyes the door opened and Sam and Jess walked in. "Dean! Are you okay?" Jess immediately hugged him.

"Hey Jess, yeah, I'm fine." He winced slightly, but didn't complain.

"Thank God, I didn't even know you were here until the hospital called us a few minutes ago!" She let go and briefly turned to Cas, "Well, I'm glad to see you had some company!"

"You would've figured that they'd call the emergency contact first thing." Sam crossed his arms as he sat down next to Dean. "Just goes to show how messed up the healthcare system is in this country."

Dean inhaled sharply, "Um… they did. Cas is my emergency contact. You're my alternate."

"Oh."_It's nice to know that your angel boyfriend is more important than your own brother._ "I didn't know you changed it."

"Uh, yeah… Shortly after he moved in. It made sense to list him because you work and he's usually not busy…" Dean rubbed his arm-_it had made sense at the time._

"Well, in any case, just glad to see you well." _Not that it mattered to you that I did. _Sam smiled.


	37. January 18, 2007

**January 18, 2007**

When the phone rang for the fourth time Dean relented and picked up the unknown caller. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mr. Beretta?" A man's voice replied.

"Whatever it is you're selling, I'm not interested." Dean muttered, about to hang up.

"Sir, this is Detective Lucas White with the SGPD. I'm calling to inform you that we have apprehended the individual who was responsible for your…" He paused, "…visit in December."

Dean was suddenly numb as he continued listening, "We found a match to the DNA you provided and were able to apprehend a man who matched. We're currently in the process of arranging a hearing for him, and once the trial date is set there will be more work involved on your part. For now I wanted to call to update you on the situation. When more is required of you we will be contacting you. I am sorry for the situation that led to this, and I hope you are doing well."

"Thanks…" Dean said, blankly staring ahead.

"Have a good day, sir." The detective hung up as Dean continued to clutch the phone. Castiel entered the room shortly afterward and noticed Dean.

_Given his posture and expression he is not acting as he normally does. Perhaps he has experienced something recently that led to this appearance._ "Dean, is everything alright? You appear distressed?"

Dean swallowed before he blinked and turned toward Cas, "They caught him."

"Caught who?" Castiel tilted his head slightly.

"The guy who…" Dean coughed, clearly unwilling to vocalize bluntly what had occurred.

Castiel's eyes suddenly glowed brightly, "Where is he?"

"At the police department where Jess' parents live…" Dean stated. Before he could finish Castiel had disappeared.

**SPN**

Seven minutes later the angel returned, appearing extremely tense. His arms were at his sides, his fists clenched as he breathed deeply, his chest slowly rising as he practically vibrated as he stood in place. He appeared somewhat disheveled, his shirt loose and his hair misplaced from his standard neat appearance.

Dean looked hesitantly at the angel, having an idea of what may have occurred, but clearly intimidated by Cas-who looked like he still might smite anyone who got too close. "Cas… what's going on? Where'd you go for a few minutes there?"

The fire in his eyes dimmed as Castiel calmed himself, "To borrow a phrase from your action movie star Mr. Samuel L. Jackson, I 'beat the ever-loving shit out of that motherfucker'." He rolled his neck, and Dean swore if he could see them Cas was probably stretching his wings to try to adjust back to normal.

"You blinked to the police station and beat the shit out of the guy who did that to me?"

"No. I went to the police station and took the man with me, then I proceeded to accost him for what he had done. I nearly smited him, but my brethren told me to stop and return him. His disappearance would be noticed and may expose us to 'mere mortals'." Castiel stated, almost sounding bitter at the last part. Dean was surprised, he figured that Cas would always listen to heaven-given how he'd acted in the past.

"Thank you." Dean hugged Cas, stopping the involuntary trembling.

"You are welcome. No one deserves to live freely after committing so heinous an act. I had figured my brothers would agree, but I was mistaken."

"He won't be living freely. He's going to rot somewhere for quite some time." Dean remarked. He smiled as he looked in Cas' eyes-thankfully much cooler now than the blazing energy they'd held a few moments earlier, "Since when do you curse?"

"I suppose it is a bad habit I acquired watching television. Perhaps I should stop doing so…"

"No!" Dean corrected himself, "I mean, I don't mind, and besides it makes you sound more 'normal'."

The angel smiled, "Well, in that case, I may continue to do so, ass."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Maybe work on that…"


	38. January 28, 2007

**January 28, 2007**

Dean loved barbecue. Specifically, barbecue ribs. More specifically, barbecue ribs from "Shorty's". "Shorty's" was the best barbecue joint in all of Lawrence, and thankfully not too many people seemed to know about it, because usually it wasn't too busy. So when Dean decided to take Cas out to dinner to commemorate a month of them being roommates it was an easy decision of where he wanted to go to celebrate. Cas had obliged, despite his comments that he had no need to consume food. To which Dean responded, "Well, try it tonight because I'm pretty sure even your angelic taste buds can enjoy this!"

When they walked in a waitress came over to them and handed them menus as she led the couple to their table. Dean smiled, but laid off on the charm he had been used to in the past. While he wasn't exactly _entirely_ open about his sexuality, there wasn't as much of a need to pretend. He'd already told all the guys he was friends with, and most of his coworkers knew, and so far they'd all been pretty okay with it. Occasionally a few people would question, and in one case he suddenly was invited to join the decoration committee for the school dance-_because apparently people think I'm Queer Eye-_but nothing terrible happened. He was still pretty quiet about it at church, for somewhat obvious reasons, but in general he was more comfortable than he had been_. Even Mom and Dad are less judgy than before, even if Mom is trying to get me to date one of her many friend's daughters_…

The two sat across from each other at a booth on the edge of the restaurant, with Dean thanking the waitress after they'd placed their orders. Well, Dean placed their orders. He ended up ordering for both himself and Cas after the angel appeared absolutely lost trying to pick an item from the phone-book sized menu. He decided on a ranchero-burger, guessing it would be a safe enough option for the angel's non-existent palette. The waitress smiled as she noted the orders and promised to be back in a few minutes with their drinks.

"I still can't believe it's been a month." Dean noted, playing with the salt and pepper shakers, "I know that we didn't meet because of the best reason…" He paused to stop the rising bile at _that thought_, "But I'm glad we met."

Castiel returned his smile, "I am glad that we met as well Dean Beretta. I promise I will continue to help as much as I can, and I find it appropriate to commemorate one month together."

As the two continued chatting about nothing in particular an older woman stood up from her table a few feet away and walked over to the two diners. Dean turned toward her and was surprised to see a scowl when he responded, "Can I help you?"

"You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, spreading your vile nature in public. There are children here!"

Dean turned to see that there were a few kids in the restaurant, including two from his class, "Yeah, I see them." He turned toward them, "Hey Mrs. Jacobson! Hey Sarah, Hi Ted! Don't forget conferences are postponed a day because of the construction on the parking lot."

The mother nodded politely as the two students waved at their teacher, "Hi Mr. Beretta!" Ted called.

The woman reddened as she crossed her arms, "You are disgusting. You need God."

"Well, lady, based on how you're acting I don't want to join any church _you're_ part of. After all, _Judge not lest ye be judged…_ Or am I mistaken in my quotation of Matthew?" Dean shifted in his seat to face her. "I'm Catholic, and a pretty damn good one at that. For one, I don't cause a scene when I see two men out getting lunch together."

She reddened further, turning to Cas, "And what about you? Huh? Your _boyfriend_ the only one who can talk?" She said the word as if it were poison.

"I have no need to speak to you. I know my father loves me, regardless of what a simple-minded bigot may think." Cas turned away to continue talking with Dean when he was suddenly soaked with a glass of Diet Dr. Pepper.

The other diners were silent as the woman stood, appearing triumphant. Dean was trembling with rage. Every fiber of his being wanted to flip over the table and deck this lady until she was eating her barbecue through a straw. But before he could, Cas placed a hand on Dean's chest and calmly stood up. He turned to the other diners. "Let this be a lesson in what happens when you allow hatred to overcome your ability to see each other as fellow humans." He turned toward Dean, "Let's leave."

**SPN**

The manager had apologized and offered to give Dean and Cas their dinner for free (after escorting the woman out), but they had decided to decline and instead return home. After a shower Cas was no longer sticky, but he certainly wasn't as neutral as normal. In fact, Dean almost thought that he looked upset.

"Hey? Are you okay?" Dean motioned for Cas to come into his room. He'd already changed into his pajamas and had been reading when he saw Cas hovering outside his door.

"I'm fine. I apologize for lingering."

"Cas, it's okay if you want to talk. I know you, and you look off. Is it because of what that lady did?" Dean sat up, "Because honestly, she's wrong. Look, I know you're the one here who's trying to comfort me and everything, but let me try to be the comforter for the night. Come over here." He patted the bed next to him. Castiel complied and sat next to Dean on the bed.

"It is disheartening to learn that people can be so cruel." Castiel frowned, "Particularly when they do not know those they hate."

"Unfortunately we humans are surprisingly good at hating others." Dean stuck his arm out to wrap around Castiel. "But, most of us aren't like that."

"I know."

Dean slowly rubbed Cas' back in circles as he leaned over and placed his temple against the angel's. "I'm not perfect, honestly I still feel a bit broken right now, but you're helping. Thank you."

Castiel brightened, "You are welcome. You are a good comforter, Dean."

"Well thank my Mom, she's the one who always used to do this when I felt bad as a kid."

"I certainly may." He replied.


	39. February 7, 2007

**February 7, 2007**

After the first night, it became more and more frequent for Cas to sleep over in Dean's bed. Well, not sleep per say, as the angel did not require sleep in the same way which humans did. It was more that he spent the evening and early morning lying in bed next to Dean, quietly observing the man sleeping and making sure that he was calm and getting the rest that he needed. But regardless, the two were growing closer-as the sleeping arrangements testified.

Another indication was that Dean was being much more open with Cas, the two continuing their conversations in "therapy". Dean had been willing to talk more about unpleasant experiences from his past-_though not quite THE experience, at least not yet_-and had taken to having Cas talk with him as well. Dean recognized guilt-it was something he knew well with the way things had gone… Between Sam's demon issues-_and totally failing to keep up with his training because I'm an asshole_-and his parents' view of his sexuality, he could see the emotion quite well etched into the angel. After some gentle prying-and allowing Cas to pry a bit on him, _as it was only fair_-he had managed to have Cas reveal part of the reason he felt guilty.

"Because I failed you. I failed to keep you safe. To keep either of you safe." Cas lamented how he had first failed to keep Sam safe from Azazel (despite Dean pointing out that at the time he had been instructed to avoid Sam and allow him to go to his fate), then how he failed to keep Dean safe from his situation. It ended with the stoic angel sitting sadly on the floor and Dean forcing him into a bear-hug to cheer him up. _Because chick-flick or not, the guy deserves to feel good, especially with all he's done._

**SPN**

"Cas, do you have a birthday?" Dean turned to the angel sitting on the loveseat next to him as he nursed a cup of coffee. It had been a long day at work and he was glad to unwind.

"Not in the same sense that you do." Castiel spoke, the corner of his lips rising as he thought back to the party that they had had the previous month to celebrate Dean's most recent age increase. "But, I suppose if I had to place it within the context of your human conception of time I would be born on March 23. That is the day I came into being along with many of the other host. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno, you ask all about human stuff in order to fit in, I figured it'd make sense to ask about angel stuff…" Dean blushed slightly.

"I appreciate your interest." Cas nodded before he attempted a smile, awkwardly shifting his lips into an uneven grin.

Dean laughed, "Cas, you know I love you, man. But your smile is a bit terrifying…"

"You love me?"

Dean immediately turned bright red as the room became silent aside from the hum of the heater in the corner. "I…" Dean inhaled deeply, he hadn't meant for that to slip out like it had. He nervously looked at the wall to regain his composure before he continued, "Yeah. I do." _Fuck it. Fuck dancing around it, fuck chick-flick. Grow a fucking pair Beretta. _"I love you Cas."

The angel smiled, this one just as awkward, but somehow just as endearing, "I love you too."

Dean exhaled, "So, what now?"

Castiel shrugged, unsure of the stages of human relationships. "I suppose we could bond. That is what angels do to signify their intents of remaining close to one another."

"Bond, like watch a movie together and rip on the bad actors? Because we already do that…" Dean glanced at the pile of Netflix disks he had to mail back.

The angel huffed, "No, bonding-as the word is rendered in your language-is when angels mark each other physically with intent of remaining as a couple. I suppose a tattoo would be a close approximation for humans, in that it is a permanent physical mark of your relationship."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that… No offense to you, but I don't exactly do the whole 'tattoo' thing. I have one and I still remember how much I hated getting it." Dean tenderly rubbed his chest.

Castiel nodded, understanding his aversion to pain.

"But if you want there is a not-so-permanent way I can show our relationship." Dean coyly scooted toward the left side of the loveseat.

"And what would that be?" Cas asked, unaware of the closeness.

"This." Dean leaned in as he tilted his head sideways, pressing his lips against the warm sensation that was Castiel. He smiled as he pulled back from the kiss.

"So when you initiate it, it is okay?"

"Last time we weren't together." Dean stated, quickly feeling guilty for springing on Cas, given his own reaction only a month and a bit earlier, "But this time because we are, it means it is okay. In fact, if you want you can kiss me any time we are together."

The wheels clicked into place, "I understand. Because we are now lovers it is appropriate to express our affection through physical intimacy."

Dean's eyebrows raised, "I wouldn't say _lovers_-I'd say boyfriends… or maybe partners…"

"But, we are in love? Correct?"

"Yes, but lovers has other connotations-" Dean was blushing again.

"Such as?" The angel asked.

"Making love." Dean felt like a 12 year old glancing their first glimpse of porn saying that, _making love to an actual angel. That **has** to be sacrilegious. _

Castiel was quiet for a moment before he stood up and took off his sweater. He stopped and turned to face Dean, "Have I misread the situation, or did not intend for us to engage in sexual intercourse now?"

_Holy fuck…_

**SPN**

Two hours and forty-eight minutes later Dean felt like he wanted a cigarette. Or whatever the hell the equivalent was, given that he never smoked. He turned to see Cas laying on the mattress watching him. He knew that Cas watched him every night, but it was never creepy, it was actually almost flattering. Most people looked at him-_some stared, which was understandable given his physique_-but this was different than the appraising glance of a person on the street. It was personal, like he wasn't looking at the surface, but trying to memorize it-get to learn every curve and shade. It was more like someone appreciating a fine portrait or painting.

"That was… really good." Dean swallowed.

"I am glad. I apologize if I was unsure at parts, given that I am unused to this kind of intimacy."

Dean sighed as he leaned in and kissed Cas, "If you want to do that bonding thing I guess I could give it a try. Just try not to leave too bad a mark. You're a lot rougher than you think at times."

The angel appeared flustered for half-a-second as he nodded, "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

Castiel stuck out his hand and placed it on Dean's chest. It felt warm, then **_very, very hot_**. Dean clenched his teeth as he was about to speak, then it was over.

"What was that?!" Dean rubbed his chest, his ribs still felt sore.

"We have bonded-or, I have bonded with you, seeing as you are incapable of bonding."

"Did you just brand me?" Dean looked down, certain that any second red lumps would start appearing where the angel's hand was.

"No." Castiel stated, "I carved a sigil into your ribcage marking you as my bond-mate. It will protect you from evil and mark you as mine in the presence of other angels."

Dean blinked three times as he inhaled deeply, _Dean you asked for it. _"Thank you."

"So, how often is customary to engage in intercourse? I am new to it, but it seems to be quite enjoyable." Cas folded his hands as he sat up, still wearing nothing but the bed sheets.

"Oh my God, Cas…" Dean covered his eyes as he blushed an even brighter crimson than before.


	40. February 14, 2007

**February 14, 2007**

"I'm still kinda surprised he asked us out to a double date." Jess remarked, tucking her hair behind her ear as she began to apply her makeup.

"Well, I'm not. I wasn't exactly surprised when he officially announced he and _feathers_ were a couple." Sam groused, adjusting his tie as he stood in behind Jess.

Jess rolled her eyes, "Feathers? Don't you think that's a bit childish?"

"Not for Dean." Sam frowned as he finished his half-windsor knot. _He was the one who came up with the pet name, I merely overheard it._

**SPN**

The Italian restaurant that Dean had made reservations at was full to the brim, and despite making sure that he had called ahead the four still had to wait nearly 20 minutes for their table to open. When it did the two couples sat across from each other as the waitress handed out menus.

"Can I start you off with anything to drink?" She smiled politely, pulling a small notebook out of her apron.

"Can we start with a bottle of the Pacific Peak Merlot for the table?" Sam smiled, knowing how much his brother loathed red wine.

"I'll have water with lemon." Jess added.

"We'll both have waters as well-no ice for him." Dean ordered for himself and Cas-the angel having confided in advance that he had little knowledge of human dining etiquette and after their last episode did not wish to cause any issues, leaving Dean to handle the ordering.

After the waitress left Sam spoke. "It's nice to know you two finally clued us in on being together." Sam stated, not looking up from his menu. _Given how you've been together since at least New Years…_

"Well, we've really only been together for a week…" Dean stated, clearly warning Sam not to take it too far with his tone. "Even if we have been _living_ together for a few months."

Sam settled into a bitch-face and continued to peruse the menu. "So Cas, what do you think you'll get? Given that you've decided to eat tonight."

The angel looked down at the menu and frowned. There were easily a hundred different options to choose from, and despite not needing to eat, he did want to order something reasonable, "I… am unsure."

Dean glared at his brother as he looked over to Cas, "It doesn't matter, I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Yes…" The angel slouched slightly as he held up the thick booklet and tried to ignore the distractions in order to pick a meal. Dean scooted closer to Cas and hooked his arm around his shoulder as he started talking through the different options, making sure to give his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek when Sam had glanced up from his menu. Sam rolled his eyes and silently wished the wine would arrive.

The waitress returned and delivered their drinks, then took the orders. Cas ended up getting a veal cutlet and angel-hair pasta in a creamy basil sauce. Jess noticed the tension between the brothers, and decided to try and make small talk after the waitress left. "So Cas, how's everything been? I imagine it must be interesting to get to learn about us humans so up-close and personal."

"Especially when it means getting fucked by them…" Sam mumbled.

Dean scowled, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it must be fascinating for him to get to see how great it is to be close to you. Getting to hear all your stories and help with every little thing you need, then getting screwed whenever you feel like it." Sam paused, "Not that that's anything new." _Given how often you've screwed me over recently, it must be becoming pretty easy for you._

Dean reddened, "Sorry I don't just drop everything to go gossip with my brother. _Oh Sammy, did you hear? _Cas actually cares about my baggage instead of focusing on his own trauma for fucking once."

"I'm glad you found someone who can put up with your bullshit, because frankly I was tired of it. I know what happened sucked, but it's been two months. Get over it. I was kidnapped and almost died before I found out the whole truth and I don't bring it up constantly." Sam crossed his arms.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't compare your trauma to mine."

"Well maybe I wouldn't have to if I even knew what you were going through! You're more emotionally constipated than anyone else I know."

"Look, just because I don't want to talk about it-"

"To anyone else but your boyfriend." Sam cut him off.

Dean was steaming, "Yeah, because you haven't confided in Jess shit that I don't know."

"That's different."

"How?!"

"She helps me train because you've been too busy with the self-loathing thing. I've actually been making progress with her help." He flicked his wrist causing a nearby empty chair to flip over. "And look, no nosebleed!" He sarcastically gestured for approval from his brother.

_I ought to give you a nosebleed you ass._ "And he's been helping me get over the shit that happened so I can get back to helping you. Meanwhile you're too busy being a dick to even ask how I've been."

"Sorry, I forgot you were an expert on dicks, given how you're obsessed with your angel boyfriend's." Sam commented.

Jess anxiously eyed the brothers, now leaning in only inches from each other's faces. "Sam, Dean, let's calm down…"

"I think I'm not hungry anymore." Dean commented, standing up as he threw his napkin on the table.

"Me neither." Sam stated, leveling a glare at his brother.

"Dean, perhaps we should reconsider… This is your brother, you two should not be arguing like this." Cas pleaded.

"Sam… let's sit back down." Jess motioned back to the table.

"Good night." Dean stated firmly, turning away from the table.

"Good riddance." Sam responded, marching toward the opposite exit.

Cas and Jess briefly exchanged worried looks as they ran after their boyfriends, hoping to salvage something of the clearly stressed relationship the boys were currently in.

**SPN**

"Hello?" Dean flipped his phone open at Bobby's number. _When it came to Bobby you didn't want to have to answer to him after you'd sent him to voicemail._

"I have your idjit brother on the other line. We are going to talk through this and you two are going to make up. Then all four of you are coming here-no refusals." Bobby paused, "And yes, I know about 'Cas'. After I got a call from a Jess a random number called me-claiming to be your boyfriend Castiel."

"Oh, I kinda forgot to tell you about him…"

"Really, you didn't think to call me and mention you're currently dating an ACTUAL angel?!" Bobby was incredulous.

"Well…" Dean felt shitty to say the least, _I haven't really thought to tell anyone with all I'm still processing_.

"Look, don't feel too bad-he explained a bit to me, and I understand that you're not 100% right now. But that isn't an excuse to get into a shouting match with your brother. _Which goes for you too, Sam_."

Dean heard an indistinct grumble on the other line.

"So let's start with the basics-why are you two angry at each other?" The older hunter leveled.

"Because he kept making Cas feel embarrassed and saying I've been too busy with him to do anything else." Dean stated.

"Because you are too busy with Cas, and you never tell me anything!" Sam retorted.

"Boys." Bobby warned. "We aren't arguing, we're talking."

"Fine." Dean sulked.

"Okay." Sam added.

"Good." Bobby stated, "Sam, were you trying to embarrass Cas?"

"Only half-trying. The guy doesn't know anything about being human."

"Because he's an angel!"

"Still, you constantly fawning over him doesn't help. You're treating him like he's a baby in a suit."

"He basically is, in terms of life experiences." Dean sighed, "Look, so what if he doesn't know everything? We're working on it…" _And besides, that's kinda why I like him-he gets to experience all this stuff with me and it's cute to see him get so into it. Like, seriously, he spent 20 minutes playing with the radio after I showed it to him because he found it 'a fascinating approximation of the hosts' communication methods'…_

"Sam, Dean has a point. If he wants to show Cas new things he has the right to. And you shouldn't try to embarrass the boy for not knowing things. How would you like it if I started talking about hunting all the time and calling you out for not knowing everything?" Bobby chastised.

"I wouldn't like it." Sam admitted, his tone revealing his embarrassment.

"Dean, would you mind if Cas and Sam did some things together?"

"What? Why?"

"Because it'll give your brother chances to actually get to know the man you've decided to be with. You know his girlfriend. It's only fair that he gets to know your boyfriend."

"Well, I guess that's okay. I might've not really introduced them well…" Thinking back to how they'd only talked once before as a group-prior to him and Cas dating.

Bobby paused, "Dean, have you been keeping things from Sam?"

"No. Not on purpose." Dean replied, "Things have just been… different recently. I've been talking a lot to Cas."

"I understand that it is nice to have a close person to talk to, but don't forget your brother. You two had each other before any of the rest of this mess. It's only fair you talk with him about how things are."

"Yeah!" Sam interjected.

"But that is a two way street, Sam. Jess told me you haven't even tried calling Dean for almost a week, and that he hasn't been helping you with training-she has. I told you two to work on it together. I don't care if she helps, but the two of you should both be there."

"Oh." Sam coughed, "Look-I guess, maybe, I might've been a bit mean tonight, and I haven't been great at reaching out."

Dean sighed, _fucking chick-flick moments! _"Same here. I promise I won't let Cas change anything between us-and I'll try to talk more."

"Good. Now all of you are coming up here this weekend. One hand or not, I'm still slapping both of you for being so damn stupid to each other!" Bobby concluded, hanging up the call.

Sam shook his head as Dean exhaled, both thinking the same thing: _How the fuck did we end up here?_


	41. February 16, 2007

**February 16, 2007**

Despite Cas' insistence that he could fly them all to Bobby's, Dean had opted to drive instead. "Because no offense Cas, but I don't love flying in a plane," _honestly it still kind of freaks me out, "…_ let alone having you zap me somewhere without any sort of protection against the elements at 15,000 feet."

Cas nodded, "I suppose that makes sense. Though normally you aren't overly concerned with protection."

Dean immediately reddened, "Cas…"

The angel cocked his head slightly, "You drive a vehicle with lower than optimal crash-test ratings, not to mention your disliking of helmets when engaging in cycling." He paused, the gears visibly clicking into place. "Oh, you thought I was referring to your not using condoms when we engage in intercourse."

"That would be it." Dean exhaled, the blush beginning to subside.

"I understand, that is a topic that we don't discuss with others-as per your list." Cas pointed to the list in his pocket Dean had given him.

**SPN**

"You've gotta be kidding me." Dean raised an eyebrow when he saw the beige Volvo wagon pull up to the curb.

Jess rolled down the window and called out of the Swedish-engineered monstrosity, "Come on, get in!"

Dean opened the trunk as Cas loaded their luggage into the cargo space. As the two rounded the wagon to enter the back-seat Jess quickly stood up and blocked Cas from opening the rear door. "Is something wrong?"

"You're up front with me. These two still need to talk it out face to face. Hopefully they can chat a bit more on the drive before we get to Bobby's." She pulled the angel to the passenger seat up front as Dean was left to sit in the back seat beside Sam.

Dean glanced around at the tan pleather interior and turned to Jess, "Since when do you have a car?"

"Since your brother decided it was more romantic than jewelry." She smiled and rolled her eyes.

"I got it for her for Valentine's day. It was actually cheaper than the earrings I had been considering, and way more practical." Sam noted.

"Especially considering I only ever wear clip-ons." Jess added, pulling the car away from the curb as she headed toward the interstate. "You two boys talk in the back, us grown-ups are going to chat up here."

"You do realize both of us are older than you?" Dean commented, trying to get comfortable in the smaller-than-average backseat.

She scowled, eliciting a slight snort from Sam until she slid the seat back and crunched the 6'4 man's toes. Sam grunted as he held his foot.

"Quite the feisty one you've got there." Dean chuckled.

"And it's why he loves me." She added from up front.

Sam sighed, _well, she isn't wrong…_

**SPN**

Over the course of the ride the brothers did have a chance to reconnect. Sam shared how he'd been progressing with his powers, "Now it's way easier, and with Jess' help I've been able to do all sorts of cool stuff. Check this out." Dean watched as Sam picked up half-a-dozen traffic cones with his mind and juggled them in the air before returning them to their previous locations.

"And it doesn't hurt as much?"

"No. All the meditation really seems to work. Part of me still isn't totally okay with the 'having demon blood' thing, but given that I'm pretty in-control I think it's not too terrible." Sam anxiously rubbed his shoulder, despite the others all knowing his secret-and Cas agreeing with him that he wasn't destined for darkness-he still wasn't entirely comfortable with the circumstances that caused his abilities.

The conversation continued with discussion of other topics, eventually landing on pop-culture and seeing how well Dean had been acclimating his supernatural boyfriend.

"I think I've been doing a pretty good job." Dean nudged Cas from behind, causing the angel to turn to face the backseat.

"He's certainly tried. I have begun peppering my speech with contractions to seem more casual, and Dean has insisted on watching movies and television in order to give me a better ability to relate when in conversations with others." Castiel looked at Dean, who nodded in agreement.

"Alright, let's see how you are with pop-culture." Sam grinned, "Given how Dean's secretly a giant nerd beneath that tough-guy exterior…"

"Watch it." Dean said, half-joking.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Let's see how you do with some random references."

The four riders took turns quizzing each other, with Cas managing to get a fair bit correct.

"Pulp Fiction is a Quentin Tarantino movie where a number of incidental stories interconnect in order to make a larger whole. There are a number of vignettes, but arguably the most notable is one involving a man named Marvin's head exploding." The angel responded.

"How'd you know that? We haven't seen that one." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"When you are at work I sometimes read a website called 'Wikipedia'. It appears to be a great fountain of knowledge on various topics. I have also found that 'TVTropes' is also quite useful with understanding some of the recurring elements of media." Cas noted, pulling out a webpage he had printed. "For instance, today's article of the day is regarding the flag of a country called Lithuania."

"Thank God for the internet." Dean muttered.

"Well, while he may be the cause of everything I would argue that your Tim Berners-Lee is more to credit."

**SPN**

It was nearly ten by the time the car pulled up to the blue two-story house. Sam had switched with Jess for the last half-hour of the trip in order to navigate them correctly (as Bobby's home was intentionally hard to find). When they parked the car Dean heard barking and quickly saw Rumsfeld as he clamored up to meet the four.

Cas stood still as he watched the dog bark at the group, with Dean and Sam also remaining on-guard around the large dog. He might know them, but he was still a guard dog before anything else. Jess on the other hand…

"Oh my God! Hello sweetie!" She quickly scooped up the Doberman and held him like he was a puppy. "Aren't you just the cutest little guy! How come you guys never told me about this adorable little guy?" She looked over at the stunned brothers.

"Uh… We never really thought about Rumsfeld when we were talking about Bobby." Sam stated, surprised at the dog nuzzling her as she held him.

"Yeah, he kinda scared us last time, considering he's Bobby's personal guard-dog." Dean added, watching the formerly intimidating dog cuddle up to the blonde.

"Oh, he's just a big softee, aren't you?" She kissed the pooch's head as he licked her arm. "Alright, I have to put you down-" She set the dog back on the ground as she picked up her suitcase.

"Well that's something new." Bobby said from the porch.

"Hey Bobby." Dean waved.

"Rumsfeld, get over here." Bobby called over the dog, "You're going soft on me?" He chuckled as he patted the dog's head. "Good to see y'all. Glad to see you all made the trip in one piece."

"Honestly the ride did us some good," Sam glanced at Dean, "We're better now."

"Good. Because I have some news for you boys I need to share. But that can wait until tomorrow, first things first I need to introduce myself properly."

Jess stepped forward and offered her hand, "Jessica Moore, but you can call me Jess."

"Nice to finally meet you in person Jess."

"Likewise."

"Sam been doing okay? He tends to get melodramatic…"

Sam blushed as Jess stifled a laugh, "He's okay. We've been working on that along with a few other things."

"Good." Bobby smiled, "That means you're Castiel."

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord." He nodded, glancing at the stub where Bobby's hand had been. He paused a moment as he looked at the scarred surface. "Would you like that back?"

"I'm sorry?" Bobby asked.

"Forgive me if I am too forward, but if you would like I can fix that." Castiel gestured toward the missing hand.

"Cas has magic hands." Dean waggled his fingers. _In more ways than one._

"Not _magic_." The angel corrected, clearly repeating an earlier admonishment to Dean, "I am able to heal some injuries given my tenant to the divine grace."

Bobby glanced skeptically at the angel, "And what do you want in return?"

"Bobby, Cas is an angel-they don't require anything in return." Dean quickly defended.

"He is correct."

"Alright…" Bobby extended his arm as Cas gently grasped it.

"This may hurt momentarily."

**SPN**

"Oh thank God, he's awake." Jess moved the icepack off Bobby's brow.

"Cas, you've gotta be more careful." Dean stated as he saw Bobby glancing around the room, his eyes squinted in the bright light.

"Bobby you're okay, you just passed out from the pain." Sam added, looking in from the kitchen as he put down a book on first aid.

Bobby looked down and saw he had both of his hands; he tested them slowly moving each finger. They worked. "Well Cas, thank you for the hand, but Dean is right, that hurt like a bitch."

"And hitting your head on the porch didn't help." Jess added adjusting the ice again.

"I apologize. I should not have interfered." The angel looked at his shoes, clearly ashamed.

Dean placed his arm around his boyfriend and raised his chin up, "Stop. Remember, we aren't doing that. I'm not getting depressed and withdrawn about what happened and you aren't getting upset over misunderstandings because of the whole 'not-a-human' thing."

"Honestly, for the pain I'm happy to have my hand. You wouldn't believe how hard it's been to do anything around here." Bobby waved Jess away as he sat up. "Why don't we all get some rest and talk in the morning?"


	42. February 17, 2007

**February 17, 2007**

_Dean's Do-Not-Discuss List_

_1\. __Personal relationship details (sex, turn-ons, who is the top/bottom-even if you personally don't care that people know you are on top I prefer not to have that specific detail known)_

_2\. __Your angel status_

_3\. __The supernatural in general_

_4\. __Money. Bank information especially._

_5\. __That Sam has mindfreak powers._

_6\. __Season two onward of Dr. Who because I swear I will kill you if you ruin it for me!_

Castiel folded the list back up and placed it in his shirt pocket. He was wearing a plaid button-down similar to Dean's usual method of dress, only he kept his buttoned fully and tucked into his jeans. Dean had already gone downstairs a few minutes prior, leaving Cas with a quick kiss as he finished getting ready. While the two normally weren't so chaste the walls were quite thin and Bobby had made it known that he didn't want either couple keeping him up late because of 'nocturnal activities'.

As the angel walked out of the spare bedroom and down the hall he looked around at the copious stacks of books and written papers scattered throughout the house. It was oddly comforting. It reminded him of some of the vaults in heaven, with the scribes working to record diligently every action ever taken by humans on their floating blue orb. It was wonderful work. The kitchen smelled pleasing, though not exactly appetizing-given that he had no need to eat, but it was evident that the humans present all were enjoying the fruits of Bobby's labor.

"Hey, I saved your spot." Dean smiled as he pulled out a chair for Cas directly next to him.

"Thank you." Cas responded, sitting quietly as he watched the others continue chattering. He felt awkward still over the previous day's healing and the pain it had brought Bobby. Dean rested his hand on Cas's arm as he continued eating. The spot grew warm as the angel again felt glad to have gained the love of such a man, and the touch let him know that no matter what they would be fine together.

"So Sammy, I know you did a brief demonstration yesterday with your Criss Angel powers, but I gotta admit, I think I've seen better." Dean baited Sam.

"Really? In what, X-men?" Sam replied, knowing Dean's slight obsession with the franchise.

Dean scoffed for a half second, "Now I mean, don't get me wrong, it was impressive and all, but a traffic cone weighs, what, a few pounds?" Dean barely contained a smirk as Sam's face shifted.

"Boys, come on…" Bobby warned, knowing Dean was trying to get Sam's goat now that the two were on speaking terms again.

Sam stood up and crossed his arms, staring directly at Dean. The older brother braced himself, but all seemed calm… Until his chair scooted back from the table and he suddenly was lifted a good four feet off the floor.

Jess rolled her eyes, "Sam, come on."

"No, I admit it, I deserve this." Dean replied, trying to figure out how to get down.

"So are you willing to admit you aren't the only strong one anymore?" Sam grinned as Dean slipped out of his chair and fell on his back with a thud.

"Never." Dean wheezed, "But that was pretty impressive."

**SPN**

After a full two hours passed talking about Sam and his training regiment (apparently he and Jess had been working on meditation as a couple, including a couple's Tantric Yoga course), the conversation eventually landed on the newest member of the group, Cas.

"So how exactly did you end up shacking up with an actual-as-in-wings-and-halo-wearing angel?" Bobby asked as he turned toward Dean, "No disrespect intended."

"None taken. Although your depictions of 'wings' and 'halos' are both flawed. If you were to see my true form, which is roughly the size of your Chrysler Building, you would be at best blinded." Cas responded, before realizing the question had been directed toward Dean.

Dean shrugged, "You know I saw him in dreams before, but in person… Cas showed up at the foot of my bed after…" He paused, Bobby didn't know what had happened. "…some bad stuff happened, and he decided to help me out."

The older hunter nodded, knowing he wasn't privy to all of the details, but decided it wasn't quite right to pry at that moment, "Well, I'm glad. Seems like you two do alright."

"We tend to balance each other. We both have less than optimal experiences and self-concepts, but we work together to ensure that we both do well." The angel responded, with Dean nodding in agreement.

"So, forgive me, I'm new to all this angel stuff, but why exactly haven't I heard of you guys coming to earth before now aside from legends from a millennia ago?"

Castiel looked downward for a moment before he re-met Bobby's gaze, "My father has a plan in place for all of us, and until recently we had been told to avoid interacting with humans, only to record their actions and prayers and act through suggestions and slight divine intervention. He had forbid us from coming to earth, but recently, after the events that led to Sam's discovery of his powers at the slaughter that Azazel had held, he allowed us to begin entering dreamstates, then eventually in corporeal forms."

The room was quiet a moment before he continued, "I am sorry for the pain that occurred in your life, and I promise you that had I been given the ability we would have intervened."

Bobby nodded as the other three exchanged brief looks, unsure of what Cas had just implied.

**SPN**

The Saturday came to an end with a game of poker. The day had been a good opportunity for the two couples to reacquaint themselves, and honestly it had worked. Bobby was glad to see that both of the brothers-_despite being stubborn as hell idjits_-had managed to put aside their differences and _communicate like damn adults for once_.

Jess dealt a new hand to the five clustered around the coffee table. So far she and Bobby had been cleaning house. Sam had a terrible poker face and Dean seemed to be getting nothing but bad hands, while Cas kept asking Dean about his hands and making his cards evident to the others.

"So this beats a flush, but not a full house?" He said to Dean holding his cards to show him, the older Beretta motioning for him to lower his voice.

"I fold." Dean placed his cards on the table.

"Fold." Sam replied.

"Fold." Bobby tossed his two pair on the table.

Jess sighed, "It's getting late. We have to get up early in order to make it back tomorrow." She smirked, "Besides, Bobby and I already took enough of your pocket money."

Sam huffed and Dean frowned, but neither could deny that they'd been beaten.

"Don't take it personally boys, when you have as much practice as I do it's hard to lose." Jess smirked as Bobby chuckled.

"Well, I guess I'll see you guys in the morning." Sam waved to the others as he and Jess plodded up the stairs.

"Night." Dean called up after them as he and Cas cleaned up the poker set.

"Dean, would you mind grabbing me a beer?" Bobby asked, showing his empty bottle.

"Sure, I'll grab you a nightcap." Dean put the cards back in their sleeve and walked to the kitchen. The fridge was mostly full, but devoid of beer. "You're out."

"Check in the basement. In the fridge in the back." Bobby called after him.

"Fine, you owe me!" Dean responded, flicking on the light as he went downstairs.

When he was gone the hunter turned toward the angel, "I want to make something clear, you will not do anything to hurt these boys. I don't know much about you, but I know about angels. You bastards have one hell of a code and you don't like to deviate from whatever you see as fit. You don't seem too bad, but if anything happens to these two under your watch consider yourself warned. I know about holy oil and I will make sure that you end up on the wrong end of that sword you have."

Castiel appeared flustered for a moment before he set himself, "I understand you have concerns about me, given how my kind has not intervened often in the past with yours. That being said, you would be wise not to threaten something that could erase you from existence in a fraction of a second. Dean is my charge and my lover, I do not intend to let anything happen to him or those he loves."

"Good." Bobby nodded as Dean returned.

"Bobby what the hell? You didn't tell me you had a wine cellar."

The hunter smirked as he pretended that the previous conversation hadn't happened, "I also know how to speak six languages, but you don't see me spouting them off. I'm allowed to have secrets."

Dean rolled his eyes as he welcomed Cas to follow him upstairs, Bobby carefully watching as the two ascended.


	43. March 23, 2007

**March 23, 2007**

"Happy birthday to Cas! Happy birthday to you!" The trio finished as a bemused angel stared at the cake in front of him.

"Blow out the candles." Dean whispered, nudging Cas' shoulder.

Cas nodded and turned to face the cake before he exhaled, extinguishing the flames.

"Since we couldn't find an infinity sign candle at the grocery store, I hope you don't mind the question mark." Sam noted, pulling the decorative center candle out along with the smaller ones that had ringed the outer edge of the vanilla iced cake.

"That is more than understandable, given the comparatively limited lifespans of humans." The angel eyed Dean carefully as he cut a slice of cake and placed it in front of him.

"I'm a pie man myself, but I do make a damn good cake if I may say so." Dean cut a second, much smaller slice for Sam as he continued serving. "So eat up. Even if you don't have to, I think you'll want to after a few bites."

Sam snorted, "As much as I hate to admit it, Dean is one hell of a baker." He glanced at his brother, "And that compliment counts as your next birthday gift."

Dean rolled his eyes as he smirked, "Still better than three years ago."

As Sam was about to retort Jess stepped between the brothers, "Boys… come on, it's Cas' special day, I know you love to bicker but can we let him be the center of attention for once?" Jess cajoled.

"Alright." Sam smiled as he kissed Jess, then smeared a bit of icing on her nose.

"Oh, you're in for it now…" She responded with a spoonful of cake to his forehead.

Dean laughed at the two as Cas picked up the slice of cake and stuck it in Dean's face. He sputtered, "Hey, no fair! I was distracted." The angel looked away, feigning innocence. "You're lucky it's your birthday."

"I'm lucky every day." Cas raised his eyebrows, an attempt at the 'waggling' he had seen Dean do when being especially sarcastic.

"I swear you are too corny sometimes." Dean sighed as he wiped off the cake with a napkin, "It's a good thing you're sexy to make up for it…"He pecked him on the nose before smearing icing on his chin.

**SPN**

After cleaning up the cake, and admitting that Dean was an excellent baker, the man in question disappeared for a moment before returning with a large bright red gift-wrapped package.

"Time for presents!" Dean grinned nervously as he held out the box.

Cas blinked, "Why did you get me a present?"

"It's your birthday, dude. On each other's birthdays we give gifts."

"I know the custom, but why would you feel necessary to get me one? I have never gotten one for your birthday. I was unaware it was expected between us." Castiel suddenly felt a wave of shame ebbing at the edge of his pleasant afternoon.

"Stop." Dean placed his arm on Cas' shoulder as he looked him in the eye, "We aren't doing that. No guilt because of not understanding human stuff, remember? First, it isn't expected between us to give each other gifts-_I **chose** to do this as an additional way of showing that I care for you_. Second, you more than make up for one lousy birthday gift with everything else you do. So stop it." He paused and glanced closely at the angel's features, "I know that look-yeah, you have a look on your face even if you think you're unreadable to everyone else. You don't owe me anything."

The angel cracked a small grin, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, now open my gift before Sam tries to have you open the razor he bought you."

"Hey!" Sam huffed.

"You get all of us the same thing during the calendar year. Seriously, man, stop buying your gifts in multipacks at Costco so we don't guess it immediately."

Cas smiled further and accepted the metallic package Dean had been holding out in front of him. It wasn't terribly large, but it had a bit of weight to it… As he removed the paper-through tearing after a fair bit of encouragement from the others-he revealed a cardboard box. He lifted the lid and inside saw a small stack of papers…

"A birth certificate, driver's license, and social security paperwork?" Castiel asked, holding up the items.

Dean hesitantly rubbed his arm, "Yeah… um…" He took a deep breath, "If it were to… arise that I decided to want to further our relationship… Legally, like, um… There's stuff that has to happen and I was thinking that…"

Castiel was silent a moment as Dean became increasingly red, "Are you asking if I wanted to marry you?" Sam's eyebrows shot upward as Jess inhaled and excitedly grabbed onto his arm.

Dean swallowed, "Yes." He nodded, _Holy fuck I'm actually doing it._ "Yes. Cas, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Dean exhaled and excitedly kissed the angel, _fuck the PDA_. Without turning he pointed at Sam, "I'm breaking the news, so put down the phone." Sam stuffed the phone back in his pocket, grumbling.

Castiel was silent a moment before he spoke, "How do we go about becoming married? I understand there is a ceremony-as per the depictions in your media-but what is there to do before that?"

"Well, we can't get married here-technically." Dean frowned as he sat on the sofa beside Cas.

"Is there insufficient means? I am sure we can find a willing administrator for the event."

"Not exactly…" Dean sighed.

Sam and Jess exchanged glances before he spoke, "Technically Dean can't marry you in this state, it's illegal in Kansas."

"It's illegal everywhere but Massachusetts." Dean nearly whispered.

Castiel frowned, "Why is it illegal? We are both grown men-well, you are, at least-and as such we should be able to marry whomever we see fit."

"Yeah, the whole 'both grown men' thing sums it up." Dean bitterly remarked.

"Homosexual marriage is frowned upon basically everywhere." Jess added, "Gay relationships are just becoming acceptable-and even then there are many who aren't okay with it-but marriage is a big issue. Even people who are okay with gay relationships aren't always on board with gay marriage…"

"Fuck that."

"Cas!" Dean spun to the angel beside him.

"You and I are already bonded, the highest symbol of love among the heavens. We are going to have the highest symbol here as well." The angel responded.

"So, what exactly are you going to do?" Sam asked.

"We will go to Massachusetts."

"Well, I did kinda want a destination wedding…" Dean muttered.


	44. March 24, 2007

**March 24, 2007**

"God I hate the mall…" Dean grumbled as he and Cas walked through the crowds of shoppers. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and as a result everyone in existence had seemingly decided to venture out shopping in the Parkside Palisades. The two walked past the food court where a curious Cas raised an eyebrow as they passed the dozen different chain restaurants and a handful of small local eateries.

"What is fa-la-fel?" Cas asked, reading a sign above a traditional Indian cuisine's counter.

"I think its beans that are mashed together and fried. Ask Sammy about it, he's the one who eats all that rabbit food."

Cas nodded as he watched the various shoppers go by. He hadn't often had chances as an angel to so closely observe humans. It was fascinating to watch the people go by. It was especially interesting to watch the children as they went with their parents. The little humans always fascinated the angel, they were still mostly pure and it was interesting to see how they saw the world as opposed to others. One little boy ran past wearing a cape as his mother followed close behind pushing a stroller. He could see why Dean had chosen to work with them, they were wonderful-and his bond-mate still had a fair bit of childlike wonder to him, even if he kept it guarded at times.

The Zales was one of four jewelry stores in the mall. When it was constructed the establishments were all placed around the center court, to deter theft and make security's job easier. What it meant for the two men who narrowly avoided a heavyset woman's handbag as they lunged out of the way was that they could manage to check all the stores for rings within an hour and make a decision.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" A middle-aged woman behind the glass display counter asked. Her nametag read 'Cheryl', though with the blinding lights it was difficult to read the silver badge.

"We're looking for wedding bands." Cas stated. He and Dean had already discussed his slight discomfort with being overtly public in their intents, but after a compelling argument-_So you are fine with consummating our love in private but intimidated that outsiders will judge you for wanting to buy a symbol of your relationship?-_Cas had managed to get Dean on board with the idea, provided the angel do most of the talking and left Dean to the haggle.

The woman's expression remained the same cheery salesperson façade, but somehow her eyes shifted just slightly. "Right this way." She led them to a case at the back of the bridal section where the men's bands were. There were a handful of different options, too many for Dean to really process fully all the choices he had. "Before we begin its customary to measure to see what size you'll need."

"Sure." Dean held out his hand as she measured his left ring finger, then repeated the process with Cas.

"Well it looks like you're both a 10-which makes it nice and easy! That's the standard men's size."

"I'm surprised; I figured Dean would be slightly larger." Cas stated, leaving the man in plaid to turn beet red.

The woman stifled a chuckle as the angel realized what he had said. "Uh, that is to say, because of his height…"

Dean exhaled, "Cas, I love you man, but seriously, watch the innuendo."

**SPN**

After the Zales, Kay's, Jared's, and Mappins the two men sat in the middle of the center circle of the mall under the half-filtered light of the skylight.

"So, what do you think?" Dean asked Cas as he took a bite out of his falafel-_while he doesn't have to eat, he seems to be enjoying himself._

"I think it is ridiculous that we have no choice..."

"What?" Dean raised an eyebrow, "We just tried four jewelers, tell me you liked at least one ring."

"I was not finished in my sentence." The angel sent Dean a sarcastic glance, which based on Dean's reaction had been effectively conveyed. "No choice but to support one company."

"Cas, they're four different stores."

"All owned by one jewelry company, Signet." Cas pulled out the financing brochures they'd been given at each store and flipped them to the back, each bore the same insignia and 'Signet' embossed in the bottom right corner.

"I'll be damned." Dean noted, which Cas immediately appeared tense at. "Figure of speech, Cas."

The feathers smoothed-or so Dean guessed-as the angel's stature relaxed. "It seems odd that one company would deceive consumers in such a way as to have multiple parts of itself operating in one location in direct competition."

"Welcome to America." Dean snorted. "But seriously, which one did you like? I have an idea, but I want you to tell me."

The angel paused before he responded, "I quite liked the one with the peridot. It reminds me of your eyes."

Dean blushed slightly before he responded, "Funny, I liked the sapphire one for the same reason."

"I suppose you are a romantic, even if you refuse it." Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean huffed as he patted Cas' back.

"Well, we should probably get them before we end up changing our minds. I think they were both at the Zales, right?"

"Yes." Cas responded as the two got up and returned to the store.

**SPN**

_Rose gold and a sapphire stone_, Dean looked at the ring as he rubbed his thumb along the edge of the emerald cut stone. _Sure as hell isn't worth the price tag. But Cas is._

**SPN**

"Hey Bobby." Dean twirled the cord as he talked, Cas standing nearby.

"Hey Dean, please tell me this is a social call and not because you and Sam are at it again. I just finished up helping someone take care of a royal pain-in-the-ass and I've already got a headache." Bobby rubbed his temples and cursed himself for helping Gordon, _the guy always was a pain to deal with_.

"Well if you're not feeling great maybe I can tell you that Cas and I are engaged another time…" Dean said, his voice raising slightly with excitement, despite his efforts to maintain his bravado.

Bobby was silent a moment before he responded, "Congratulations! Glad to hear somebody sharing good news these days. Everybody's complaining about demons all of a sudden."

"Demons?" Cas asked, _the host were not discussing demonic influence on earth._

"Not for you two. We dealt with demons once and we all almost bit it. You guys stay away from it, especially with all the prophesy bullshit you and your brother were supposed to be parts of." Bobby warned.

"Don't have to tell me twice." Dean replied, glancing at the dozens of wards Cas and him had around the house.

"In any case I wish you two the best. Having a destination wedding I presume?"

"Yeah, Massachusetts is the only place around. How'd you know?" Dean replied.

"I might be old, but I never stop fighting for what's right, both with the supernatural and the government."

**SPN**

"That went better than anticpated." Cas stated as Dean hung up the phone.

"Why wouldn't it go well, Bobby's always been chill."

"He is quite protective of you both and made it clear he did not fully trust me." Cas stated, anxiously fluttering.

Dean placed his hand on Cas' neck and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, he just doesn't totally know you yet. Besides, we still got his blessing. It's my parents I'm more worried about."

"Would it be wrong to not tell them?" Cas asked, reciprocating Dean's nervousness.

"Yes…" Dean replied as he picked up the phone and dialed his parents. It went to voicemail.

"You've reached the Berettas, leave a message after the beep."

"Hey Mom and Dad, its Dean. I know we haven't talked a ton recently because of stuff and I just wanted to reach out. I know it's weird and that some people at church are whispering with Cas and I there together-believe me, I hear it too… Anyway, that's why I'm calling. We're engaged. I love him and we're going to get married. Not right now, we don't really know when… Look, I know you and Dad still love me, you guys said you never wouldn't, and I know this is different for you. But this is who I am, I love him and nothing's going to change that…" Dean paused, "So, anyway, call me back and we can talk. Thanks."

"We could always tell them tomorrow at church." Cas suggested as Dean hung up the phone.

"Maybe… though given how they're mortified to be seen with their gay son at church I'm not sure how that would go over." Dean flopped his head onto the table as he sat down.

Cas sat beside him and also placed his head on the wooden surface. "Give them time, I am sure they will be open to it. Right now it is just an adjustment, as you indicated."

"I know, but that doesn't make it easier."

Castiel wrinkled his brow, "I am aware. But I have an idea of what might."

"What?" Dean sulked.

"Pie and intercourse?"

Dean lifted his head off the table. "At the same time?"

The angel tilted his head, "I had not considered that option, but perhaps…" He stood up and walked into the kitchen.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Dean smiled as Cas pulled down a cherry pie from the cabinet.

"Nothing. You were perfect as you were." He opened the box and looked at the baked good. "So, what am I to do with this?"

Dean grinned devilishly, "I have a few ideas…"


	45. March 30, 2007

**March 30, 2007**

In the United States there are only a handful of sweets as delectable and difficult to obtain as Girl Scout cookies. The majority of the year the cookies are not available for sale, meaning that a discerning consumer has to be sure to stock up during the annual sale period in order to have enough for the dry season of May through December. Sam was not one such person. Despite his normally healthy diet the man had a serious weakness when it came to sweets, particularly baked goods. He had already eaten through what should have been his stash (with some help from Jess and Dean). So when he saw the little girl in a Brownie uniform crossing his front lawn he happily opened the door.

"Hello, would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?" She smiled as she held up a brochure.

"Sure thing. But shouldn't your mom or dad be here? It's not safe for you to be going door to door on your own." Sam's smile faded as he watched the girl's grin morph into a toothy scowl.

"I think I'll manage Sam. After all, I did just fine the first time…" Her eyes flickered black as Sam hesitantly took a step back, the door slamming behind him as he was forced onto the lawn. The noise alerted Jess, who quickly entered the living room, trying to get the door open.

"R.J.?!" Sam shouted as he was quickly picked up by the child.

"Ding. Ding. Ding. We have a winner. Now let's see your prize." The lawn was empty a moment later, leaving only a Girl Scout cookie flyer for a distressed Jess to find when she finally managed to get out the front door.

**SPN**

"NO!" Dean shouted as he crossed the sidewalk. His car was utterly destroyed. The hood of the Celica was bent as if a massive weight had been dropped on it, caving in the metal and causing the motor to spill a mix of oil and other fluids across the driveway. The glass from the windshield littered the pavement and it was clear that the entire front end was totaled. "No, baby… please…" Dean cradled the remnants of his car as he vainly tried to open the door, despite the crumpled frame.

"Dean, what is going on?" Cas commented as he rounded the side of the house-having been in the backyard tending to his flower garden-a hobby that while Dean occasionally poked fun at, was clearly something he enjoyed given how often the angel saw him admiring it while he sat grading on the back patio.

Dean stood in silence as he gestured toward the car.

"I see." _Dean had a strong emotional attachment to the car, I don't know why, but he truly loved it. _"How did this happen?"

"If I knew do you think I'd be standing here instead of decking the asshole who did this?"

Cas nodded, "Fair point."

Before Dean could further lament the loss of his car his phone rang. "Jess, look it's not a great time. Somebody wrecked my car."

"Dean, they got Sam."

The man's blood ran cold as he motioned Cas over and put the phone on speaker, "What do you mean 'they got Sam'?"

"I mean he's missing. He answered the door for a girl scout earlier, and then it slammed shut behind him. I heard him yell 'R.J.' , then he was gone." She paused, momentarily trying to stop the rising panic in her voice, "Sam mentioned that R.J. was working with the demon who kidnapped him, but I thought he was dead-you killed him when you fought the gates of hell being opened."

"I thought he was too." He looked at a confused Cas. "We'll be there in a minute. Get ready, we're going to Bobby's."

"Wait, how are-" Jess jumped as Cas and Dean appeared in her kitchen.

"Why didn't you tell me you could teleport?" She asked accusingly as Cas and Dean blushed slightly.

"Uh, well, normally it takes a lot out of Cas and it's a bit more… intimate than you'd expect being compressed into a beam of light before reappearing in a new place." Dean coughed.

Jess blinked. "I really hope that doesn't mean anything, but for now, let's go." She grabbed her purse as she walked up to the couple.

The three reappeared in Bobby's front yard-well, the part of the junk yard that was in the front of his house-as a startled Bobby appeared on his porch with a shotgun.

"Bobby it's us!" Dean shouted.

"Sam is missing! We need your help!" Jess added.

"Also Dean's car was ruined." Cas added. The others turned to him, "I figured that while not as important, it was still worth noting."

Dean sighed as he rolled his eyes. "Cas, I love you, but right now Sammy's our focus. After we get him back, then I get a new car."

**SPN**

Four hours later the group sat exhausted around Bobby's coffee table. Cas might not need to sleep normally, but taking two passengers with him while blinking from place to place was not an easy feat when he had been earthbound for such a long period. Besides that the emotional drain of losing a close friend-nearly relative-was getting to the angel, as well as the others.

"I've tried every tracking spell and rune I can think of. Wherever he is, he's hidden pretty damn good." Bobby sighed.

"When I get my hands on that R.J. freak I'm going to kick his demon ass!" Dean muttered as he angrily leaned back on the chair, his head looking upward at the ceiling in frustration.

"So what? We call the police and hope for the best?" Jess said nervously as she eyed the others, "There has to be something else we can try…"

"I wish there was. Unless you want to strike a deal with a demon, there's no way I can think of to find the boy." Bobby lamented.

"At least we know he's alive." Dean glanced at the glowing stone amongst the heap of papers. Bobby had found a spell to determine if someone was in heaven, hell, or earth_-and as long as it stayed green Sammy was earthbound. _

Cas anxiously shifted in his seat, Dean glancing over at his fiancée, reading the clear discomfort that came with the angel thinking too much. "What's up, you've been quiet for the last bit. Still feeling off because of the trip?"

"No." He replied. "I have an idea on a way to find Sam, but I know it is unlikely to be approved."

"Man, I'm desperate. As long as we aren't making deals with anything I'll hear it."

"I could return to heaven and convene with my brethren. On my own I cannot detect your brother, but with the combined heavenly graces I should be able to determine where he is." He paused, knowing the inevitable question that would follow, "I understand that some of them are adherent to the initial plan of the two of you fighting for the end of times, but there have been those who have gone against that. It is war now, but if I am careful I can avoid those who might seek to harm me and be able to have my sympathizers assist in finding your brother."

Dean bit his lip as he looked at Cas. The angel was clearly as despondent as the rest of them at Sam's disappearance, and while the plan he had suggested was risky-_fuck that, it was nearly insane!_-it was the only one that seemed to give any sort of hope in finding Sam quickly. "Okay." Dean said quietly. "But you promise me, if anything seems wrong you come right back to earth. No exceptions. I don't want to lose you and Sammy…"

Castiel nodded as Dean walked over to embrace his fiancée-_because fuck social conventions, he was nervous and if anyone called him out for hugging and kissing his fiancée before he had to go into an extra-dimensional warzone they could suck it_-and leaned his head against Cas'. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will."

Dean kissed Cas as he leaned in to a hug as the man stood up. "Goodbye." The angel stated as he took a half step back, standing a bit father from the others as he glanced at the three with him in the living room.

"Good luck Cas." Jess said, her eyes tired but hopeful.

"Thanks Cas." Bobby nodded.

And with that the angel disappeared.

**SPN**

It was nearly midnight when Bobby found Dean leaning against a rotted out Pinto behind the house. He heard mumbled prayers as Dean continued to mumble "Let No Evil Befall Us" for the tenth time as he clutched the rosary around his neck. Clearly the man was stressed, his brother was missing and his fiancée was off trying to find him in an actual warzone.

"Hey Dean." Bobby stated, glancing up at the clear spring sky.

Dean turned around as he stuffed the rosary back into his shirt. "Hey Bobby."

"I know I can't do anything about your brother or Cas, but I wanted to show you something." He nodded toward the garage, "Follow me."

Dean shrugged against the cold as he followed the grizzled hunter into the building. Bobby flipped a switch and revealed a three bay garage. There were tool chests lining the wall and countless stains on the ancient concrete. In the middle of a VW bus that had seen better days and an Accord sat a car.

"Do you know what that is?" Bobby gestured to the black sedan sitting in the middle bay.

Dean glanced at the black hardtop before he admitted, "No, I don't know a ton about older cars. Never really liked them, to be honest. I always thought imports were cooler."

Bobby snorted, "Guys your age never can seem to appreciate the classics." He walked over to the car and opened the driver's door, gesturing for Dean to sit. "This is a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Only ever had three owners. I'm the third."

Dean glanced at the car, the interior was impeccable, as if it hadn't been touched in years.

"The original owner, Sal Moriarty, bought her brand new in 1967 for $3,999. He worked giving out bibles to the poor until he retired. He sold the car to Rainbow Motors in 1973."

Dean's ears perked up, _Rainbow Motors? That place is only a few blocks from Sam's house._

"Yes, the Rainbow Motors in Lawrence. The second owner ended up being a Mister John Winchester, your father. He bought this car for $2,204. It was your family's car until your parents died in the fire. It was sold at auction like the rest of the things in the house. Unfortunately your adoptive parents weren't in the will aside from being named as your brother's godparents, so the house and its contents were sold to pay off the mortgage and debts remaining. The car was unsold-being old enough to drive itself- so it sat in storage."

Dean looked in awe at the vehicle, while he couldn't remember it, it was somehow immediately comforting to think that this car had once been _the_ family car for him.

"When I found out about you two I did some digging and discovered the car. It needed a helluva lot of work to look as good as it does right now. But while not perfect she runs. I was going to give her to you two idjits once she was done, but now I figure I might as well let you see it. Might not be much, but at least you have something else to think about aside from your brother and angel." Bobby glanced away, hiding the momentary sadness that had entered his eyes.

"Thanks Bobby. I can't tell you how much this means to me." Dean smiled as he rubbed his hand across the steering wheel.

"Now come on, let's get inside. You need to rest." Bobby motioned for Dean and the two returned to the house, unsure but hopeful that maybe once the universe wouldn't dick them over.


	46. March 31, 2007

**March 31, 2007**

"I'm worried. He's never disappeared this long before." Dean sighed as he glanced out the window again. It was still early morning-_not that he had slept much at all the night before_-but normally Cas was gone for an hour or two at most. It was almost ten.

"I'm sure he's fine. We just have to wait…" Jess stated, unsure of herself. _Sam's already missing, I really hope Cas isn't too._

**SPN**

Heaven is not precisely what you would expect. We humans are incapable of processing the actual heaven given our limited capabilities when it comes to perception. For Castiel, however, it was plain where everything was. The angel had lived nearly his entire existence in the heavenly realm amongst his fellow hosts. Now however, even the angel was having a difficult time of parsing out where everything was. It seems as if the war had literally broken the heavens into pieces, with fragments of the former halls and corridors splintered and strewn throughout the ether. He could hear some of his brothers and sisters, but they were hidden out of his sight. It was disconcerting to say the least.

He came to rest on a part of the former great hall. When heaven was whole the great hall had been the center hub from which the many corridors and passageways led to the personal heavens of humans and other locations for the angels to use in their normal routines. The marble flooring had cracked in two pieces, with this portion sporting the bulk of the white reflective floor. The stained glass continued to filter in soft light, despite the room being ripped from its center and tossed far out of alignment. It was silent, and the angel felt a great sense of loss seeing the former hub thrown into the nothingness. He touched down onto the surface and felt the smooth stone against his bare feet. He fluttered his wings slightly as he folded them against his back, _it is nice to see these again. I certainly do miss them while in my vessel._

A slight noise out of one of the corridors branching off of the ruined hall caught his attention. Cas was aware that a war was in place, but for the time being he needed all the help he could get. _If it is an ally, it will be a potential aid to find Sam, if enemy, I will deal with the situation as I have been trained_. He carefully drew his blade as he stepped toward the archway. Inside he saw one of his sisters, she was crying hunched over the form of a slain comrade. Castiel tucked the blade away as he approached slowly.

"I mean you no harm." He stated as he raised his hands slowly and approached her. She turned toward him as she stood up, placing the body on the ground. While Castiel admitted he knew most of his brethren, he unfortunately could not recognize them all by sight. Even in their true forms it was not his calling to know the entire host, and as such he only knew those with which he was instructed to interact.

She nodded as she took in his words, "Well, that certainly is a shame considering I intend to harm you quite dearly." She smirked as Castiel was suddenly accosted by a number of angels who had been hiding in wait. "Well brother, it seems as if you finally decided to return home. I cannot say I have not been anticipating this day for some time."

"Take him to my office. I want to talk with our special friend…" She ordered the two angels grasping Castiel and preventing his escape.

"Yes Naomi." They responded in unison as the angel approached her captive.

"Well, Castiel, I for one cannot wait for our time together."

**SPN**

It was nearly eleven at night. _Where the fuck is Cas?! _"I knew I should've said 'no'. He's literally walking into a warzone… How could I have been so stupid! He's probably in some sort of jail cell until they figure out how to get him back on track with that stupid plan bullshit." Dean paced with his arms behind his back across the living room floor. Bobby had been forced to leave on an emergency as another hunter required backup nearby. As much as Dean hated it, it wasn't like the man could do much more than he could at the moment, so he and Jess had agreed to watch Rumsfeld and the house while he was out for a few hours. "I fucking hate demons!" Dean kicked the bookcase on the back wall, causing a book to come loose and nearly smack Jess on the forehead.

"Careful!" She stated, picking the book up off the ground. "Believe me, I'm not exactly their biggest fan right now either."

"What do they want with Sammy? He already agreed to not do the whole 'end of life as we know it' thing, and so did I. Besides, without me there isn't much purpose in taking him. I'm the one who should be tied up somewhere. I'm the 'righteous man', hell should be going after me to try and take me out of play!" Dean fisted his hair as he finally sat down.

"Dean, come on. You shouldn't be feeling guilty over this. You weren't the one who failed to get Sam in time because of a stupid door." Jess looked down at her skirt.

"No, I wasn't, but he's my baby brother. I'm supposed to be there for him. Not letting him get kidnapped twice in less than a year!" Dean punched a pillow across the room, sending a flurry of papers into the air with its impact. "We can't even find him anywhere! Now Cas is missing and we're still at square one!"

"Maybe not…" Jess hesitantly stated.

"What, did you find something?" Dean hopefully glanced at the blonde who was biting her lip.

"Look, I read about a ritual. If you summon a demon you can make a deal. Chances are R.J. isn't working with help. Demons are more than willing to screw each other over-at least according to these books-and the bigger the stakes the better." She swallowed, "I could summon a crossroads demon and ask it where Sam is, then we could go get him."

"Wait. You want to make a literal deal with the devil?" Dean blinked in disbelief.

"Yes."

"No way in hell. He's my brother; I'm the one doing the summoning. Especially considering the stakes."

"No. Dean, I'm doing this. You and Sam both need to live long enough to make sure you can avoid the whole apocalypse thing. I'm expendable." Jess looked away.

"You are _not_ expendable." Dean stated. "You've done just as much for Sammy as I have and you've only known him a few months. We are both getting through this. We can't make a deal. We'll figure something else out."

"Okay." She stated, picking up another book. "Let's keep looking."


	47. April 1, 2007

**April 1, 2007**

Growing up April Fools was one of Dean's favorite days of the year. For one it was a free pass to get away with most pranks-_although anything with hair remover was apparently an automatic grounding for some reason_-and when he and Sammy teamed up they were unstoppable. Dean smirked for a bittersweet moment as he remembered the last big prank the two had done together. Sam had been a senior in high school and Dean had agreed to help out his little brother plan the best senior prank they could imagine. Needless to say it had been a feat between the two of them (plus a few of Sammy's friends), but when Principal Hendricks had shown up to work to discover the entire building covered in Saran wrap the next morning the look on his face was priceless. Dean sighed as he checked his watch it was 10:43 and the back-roads were pitch black in the moonless night. He pulled the Impala to a stop. In front of him was a street sign pointing out the different roads ahead at the four pointed intersection.

"Here we are." He stated as he killed the engine, glancing over to Jess in the passenger seat. Cas still wasn't back, and they hadn't had any luck with finding Sam. Now they were desperate.

"Do you have everything ready?" She asked as she opened the heavy steel door and bit down against the chill of the early Dakota spring.

"Yeah." Dean held out the small box which contained everything the two had read in one of Bobby's heavy leather books. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes." She nodded as she used a spade to dig a small hole and deposit the box, before covering it back up.

"What now, we wait for them to show up?" Dean asked, seeing as nothing had appeared to have happened.

"Oh, but I'm already here."

Dean and Jess both turned around and saw a pale man wearing a dark suit and red tie standing on the edge of the field that would soon be 'luxury single family homes'. He strolled toward them, oozing both confidence and malice. "I suppose you're here to make a deal?" He asked, a glint of pristine white teeth visible in his sneer of a smile.

"Yes. I'm here to ask for the location of Samuel Beretta. I believe he was taken by a different demon. I know you do deals, I'm here to trade." Jess stood tall as she approached, but Dean could hear the fear in her voice.

"Ooh… Sammy Beretta, well, actually Sammy Winchester if you want to be accurate…" The demon's eyes flashed a solid red as it tilted its head, as if thinking. "I think I might know where he is, might even be able to take you there… But of course, I need proper _incentive_."

"I'm willing to make a deal. You take us-and our friend Bobby Singer-to him so we can free him and I'll let you add me to your books." Jess wrung her sweatshirt's sleeve as she stated the last half, feeling all sorts of disgust at her deal.

The demon smiled at her sickness, glad to be causing discomfort so easily. "No offense, sweetheart, but I think I'll need a bit more than that. You aren't exactly off the books as it stands…"

"What?" Dean asked, alarmed, as Jess paled and instinctively folded her arms.

"Well, your girlfriend isn't exactly destined for greatness-I'll leave it to that. If we're only talking her, I need some more incentive." He paused before his eyes seemingly glowed brighter, "He doesn't know yet does he?"

"Know what?" Jess took a step back.

"Oh… This is good…" He cackled as he jabbed a finger toward her stomach, "I'll tell you what. I don't even need yours-all I need is hers." He withdrew the finger, "After all, she's only a few weeks along. It won't even matter…"

Dean turned to Jess, "You're pregnant?"

She nodded slowly, barely whispering, "I was going to tell Sam in a few days. I wanted to be sure…"

Dean furrowed his brow as he stepped between the demon and Jess, "No way. My niece is off limits."

"Well, sorry sport, but I'm not exactly in this for the charity. Infant souls are pretty rare and pretty powerful stuff. If I'm gonna help you I need something." He glanced at Dean, "What about you, tiger?"

"Dean-no…" Jess grabbed his arm, "Remember, you need to stick around until you and Sam can end this whole 'battle' thing."

"He will. I promise I'll give Dean a full year. Plenty of time to get everything figured out."

"A year?! The book said you did ten!"

"Well, desperate times call for price gouging. The more you talk the less likely I am to tell you where your brother is." The demon snapped his wrist and a piece of paper and an ink pen appeared. "Whadd'ya say, Dean-o? Is your brother worth it? Or are you still just a fuck-up?"

"Dean!" Jess tugged on his jacket, but he broke free as he grabbed the pen.

"One year? And you take us and Bobby Singer-unharmed-to Sammy?"

"Scout's honor." He mockingly did a three finger salute.

Dean nodded as he picked up the pen, it stung when he touched it. He realized afterward why. It was drawing the blood from his arm into it as he signed the paper. _As I literally sign my life away…_

"And now for one last formality…" The demon snapped and the paper disappeared. "We seal the deal."

"I already signed your paper." Dean stated, irritated.

"No… that's just for all the little bastards down in the bullpen. Didn't that book mention the final step?"

He glanced at Jess, they thought that signing was the last step.

"Ugh… No one reads anymore. You need to kiss me to finalize it."

"Excuse me?" Dean blinked. _While this guy might've been passable as a human, there's no way in hell I'm kissing a demon._

"Fine. Guess I'll have to initiate. Who ever heard of a queer not wanting to make out?"

"Hey! That's a narrow-minded-" Dean was cut off as the demon grabbed his neck and forced them into a lip-lock. It tasted like sulfur and felt unnaturally cold.

Dean spat as the demon released. "You'll be with your brother in exactly one hour. Get your shit ready, then I'll meet you at Singer's." He pointed at his watch. "Don't be late." And with that the demon disappeared.

Dean looked at Jess, sighing as he realized the incredible weight of the situation.

"Let's get back to Bobby." She said, trying to move on as she sat in the car. It was 11:22.

_Hang on Sammy, we're almost there… Cas, please be safe…_

**SPN**

She hummed as she smiled at Cas. He was restrained to some sort of chair, his arms, legs, and wings bound in place as she circled him. "Well, so far you've been quite resistant to my methods. Rest assured, however, that I have plenty more to attempt…"

Cas looked around. There was no way out of the heavily guarded room. _Father, I truly need a miracle._


	48. April 2, 2007

** April 2, 2007**

Bobby wasn't happy when he found out that Dean had made a deal with a demon.

"_YOU DID WHAT?!"_ He bellowed when Dean confessed, "I know you boys are idjits, but what on earth compelled you to make a deal with a demon?!" He took off his hat and wadded it in his fist, frustrated beyond words.

"I had to do it for my brother, I failed last time and I'm not going to fail again. Once we save Sammy we can figure out how to deal with my deal. For now we have to get ready. Our ride's going to be here in twenty minutes." Dean stated, having steeled himself despite the massive internal worry and anxiety churning in his gut.

Bobby sighed, not wanting to move on, but realizing the time-sensitive nature of the situation decided to begin packing supplies as he berated the two. He gave Dean a list of things to get from upstairs as he and Jess started filling a duffle. As he picked up a container of holy water he turned to Jess and tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere, "At least you had enough sense to not summon a demon."

She blanched, "I actually was the one who came up with the idea… Dean stepped in at the last minute and offered himself instead-" she nearly choked as she thought of the glowing red eyes staring at her stomach, "-of what the demon had asked for first."

Bobby furrowed his brow. "You were going to sacrifice yourself for Sam?"

"Of course. He'd've done the same." She paused, smiling sardonically, "After all if it wasn't for him who knows what Nelson would've done…"

Bobby nodded, "You both really love that boy."

"We do."

**SPN**

"Tick-tock, I do have other appointments I have to keep. I've got a friend in New York who wants a presidential ticket in a few years…" The demon smirked as the three walked across Bobby's lawn.

"What's a presidency cost? A few months?" Dean bit at the demon, who seemed unphased.

"For him, not much. After all, that family's been good customers for years. I'll just let loose a plague or something." He glanced at his nails, then back up at the trio. "Hope you're good, if not, doesn't bother me, though it would be nice for that bitch to finally get what she deserves-_white eyed freak_…"

"Wait, what?" Bobby asked as the demon snapped his fingers and the three appeared at the edge of a thicket.

"Where are we?" Jess asked, looking into the vast wilderness around them.

"Manitoba. Specifically about a half-hour's drive into the middle of bum-fuck nowhere outside of Manigotagan. Your idiot brother is in a cabin about a mile from here following this hunting trail. I dropped you off as close as I can while not risking my ass being seen by any of my 'friends'. Adios, assholes." The demon exposited as he blinked out of existence.

"Did he say 'friends'-as in plural?" Dean asked.

"Yes, and he also mentioned a white eyed demon earlier. If that's true, this is a lot worse than I thought…" Bobby commented as he pulled out a shotgun full of rock salt. "Be on-guard."

Jess nervously armed herself as did Dean as they walked in silence toward the cabin. As they crested the hill they saw the ramshackle structure in the distance. It was utterly unremarkable, and likely hadn't been used for years given the state of neglect it was in. Bobby pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked through the window, spying two girls in the cabin as well as an incapacitated Sam. He passed the binoculars to Dean, who then passed them to Jess. _Normally demons aren't this sloppy. Just two of them seems suspicious._ Bobby motioned for the others to follow him quietly. As they crept toward the cabin Dean felt a rising sense of dread, Jess similarly seemed on-edge.

In a flash three large men appeared around them, clearly former bouncers or fighters they were substantially larger than the normal guys Dean fought in any of his classes-that coupled with the demon super-strength led to him and Jess being quickly overwhelmed. As he was forced to his knees with a strip of duct tape smeared over his mouth, Dean watched Bobby try to shoot the closest assailant. But even when the shot connected the hulk of a man simply knocked the shotgun out of his hands and duct-taped the older hunter's mouth before he could start an exorcism.

They were dragged into the cabin, not for lack of resistance. Dean glancing at the others, _Well shit. To quote Admiral Ackbar, this was a fucking trap._

The three were tied to chairs arranged in a half circle, with a weak Sam strapped to a chair at the far edge. The two girls were chatting, with a blonde one waving away the three other demons.

"Thanks boys, we can take it from here."

"Oh dear, it looks like our guests had a bit of a rough time getting here." The brownie smirked. "I'm surprised it took you so long, we practically had to put up billboards in order for you three to finally figure out where we were."

"In any case, I'm just happy our friends could join us." She put down the pink teacup she had been holding and walked over to Dean, "It's been so long since I saw the vessels I thought I might not get the chance again... You Winchesters were tricky to find, I'll give you that." She snapped her fingers and R.J. walked out of the room to get something.

Dean strained as he tried to break free and tackle the demon in front of him, she only tutted as he was slammed-chair and all-into the ceiling before being dropped back to the ground with a painful thud.

"You know, last time the prophesy failed. There was no showdown. We were stuck to wait a whole millennia for anything to happen, and let me tell you-my boss has not been happy being stuck in the cage for all those extra years." She sing-songed as R.J. returned and handed the pig-tailed demon a large blade. "But I think he'll get over it once I speed up the process a bit. You see," she twirled the knife, "as long as there is a victor that side wins-doesn't even matter really with the battle. Last time it was a stalemate. This time, however, I made sure we had a plan." She walked over to Dean.

Dean's pupils dilated as he tried to get away from the large blade.

"Oh man, I love the feeling of mortal terror-don't you?" She turned toward R.J. who smirked in agreement. "But enough monologuing. Time for action." And with that she slashed Dean's throat. Immediately blood began pouring forth, Dean panicking as he felt his consciousness quickly constricting as his vision faded.

The girl cackled, "And the best part? He's still going to hell for trying to save you Sammy!" She walked over to the restrained younger brother who had been trying to summon the little strength he had left to escape his bonds. "And you will let Lucifer in. Your brother is dead, and soon your friends will be too. We will break you and you will be our implement of destruction. You've always had demon blood inside you, don't fight it. This is your destiny." She grabbed his head and twisted it to watch Dean's last convulsing breath as his body finally stopped the torrent of crimson.

The three other humans were sobbing uncontrollably, with Sam desperately trying anything to get free.

"Don't bother. Your parlor tricks are nothing when it comes to real power." The blonde slammed Bobby into the far wall, pinning the chair halfway up. "Who's next? Beardo or bimbo?" She turned to R.J.

Before the other demon could respond a bright light engulfed the cabin. A firey Cas appeared in the center of the room. He had escaped his brethren with the help of a group of sympathizers, and tried to come to save Dean. The room is still as the angel slowly moves to face each individual. When he sees Dean he begins shaking, his face and body both growing increasingly bright with holy rage. He locks eyes with both demons for an instant before they disappear into a pillar of ash-smitten at the hand of the angel of Thursday.

He undoes the others and gently removes the bonds from Dean's corpse. "He is cold."

"Can you heal him? Like you did with Bobby's hand?" Jess asks.

"I can heal him. But I cannot restore his soul. It has been claimed. Your brother is another's property for eternity." Cas knelt down as he lifted the body onto his shoulder. "I will take him home and be back for you all shortly." He nodded solemnly as he disappeared.

Sam looked at the other two and swallowed numbly, unsure of what to even say.

**SPN**

Cas returned and delivered them one by one to their homes, with each remaining silent as they were placed in their places of comfort.

**SPN**

It was 6:32 when the coroner removed Dean's body from his house. Cas had healed his body, if not his soul, and it was evident to the authorities that he had died from a stroke during the night. The angel watched as the men removed his body and felt at once what it was to have experienced a true loss. He played with the ring on his finger as Sam and Jess arrived, then the Berettas. The five were silent as the clock struck seven and Castiel watched the sun begin its path over the horizon as the day began just like any other on the green and blue ball.


	49. April 8, 2007

** April 8, 2007**

Funerals are rarely enjoyable experiences. Even when called "celebrations of life" they are far from other gatherings along the journey of life. Sam's first funeral was when he was eleven.

_Ian wasn't Sam's close friend. Actually, the two barely knew each other aside from both being in the sam Boy Scout and Cub Scout troops. Ian's dad had been their pack leader when Sam was a Webelo, but aside from that the two weren't super close. Every year Troop 676 took an annual ski trip. It was a long drive through Kansas into Missouri, but most of the boys enjoyed it, so every year in February the troop went. Sure there had been accidents in the past, a broken arm, a few stitches from a busted lip-but never anything serious. After all, there was always plenty of supervision during the skiing and the younger scouts were never allowed on anything more than the bunny hills…_

_Who'd've thought a sled could kill a kid? Well, it wasn't really the sled, it was more the sled flipping over and Ian going headfirst into a pole. He died on the mountain. _

_Sam and Dean weren't there, Dean had gone in the past and had told Sam it wasn't that great a time, so the two had skipped that year. When the phone call came in it was nearly seven. Sam was watching TV when his dad answered the phone in the kitchen. He wasn't paying attention to the conversation, but when his dad came into the room a minute later to talk with him and Dean he knew something was wrong._

_"Boys… I just got a call from your scoutmaster. One of the boys in your troop died on the ski trip. It was Ian…"_

_Two weeks later the funeral was held in Ian's church. His parents had made dioramas of his life showing his achievements. There were pictures of soccer games and science fairs, medals from different competitions, all the sorts of stuff parents stored away to show their grandkids when they were inevitably asked what their children had been like when they were young. Now the Millers would never get that chance. Ian was an only child. Now he was a body in a closed casket._

_Sam felt wrong being in a church surrounded by pictures and things belonging to someone his age on display. Even more so when he got to the Scouting display and saw pictures of himself in the uniform he was currently wearing (the adults had told the scouts to wear their uniforms to the funeral). Dean was stone faced, he barely knew Ian aside from the fact that the kid had been in Sam's year. Sam, however, was struck immediately with a sense of loss. Not over that of a friend, but because of someone his age-someone so young-dying in such a random and instant way. That moment marked his innocence vanishing, and so he sat beside his brother and parents as the pastor gave a speech and he watched Ian's father carry out the coffin along with his uncle and cousins. A man should never have to carry his own child's coffin._

When Father Daugherty concluded the prayer Sam felt like his whole body had become numb. He followed his father to the front of the sanctuary as the two of them picked up the wooden box that held his brother's ashes. Dean had made it clear in his will that he had wanted to be cremated, so his family complied-despite the church trying to dissuade them from doing so… What struck Sam as they left the building was that it was colder than normal for April, _not that it had felt warm for the past week_. The two men carried the box out of the church and down the stairs to the waiting hearse. Dean was going to be interred in Stull Cemetery, again against the wishes of the church who had tried to convince the Berettas to have him buried in their graveyard.

The burial was more of an event than the funeral, _though not in the way which events are normally held-there was no drinking or music here_. Dean's plot was toward the center of the grounds, not far from a large cedar tree. When Sam and Jess left their car they watched the procession of vehicles fall in line behind their car. It was touching, in a way, to see how many people would be affected by Dean's departure. Beyond the family there were also a number of coworkers from the school, as well as former students. It struck Sam as unfortunate that so many young children-some as little as six and seven-had come to deal with the loss of a major person in their lives. He rubbed his reddened eyes again as he heaved another choked sob, Jess trying her best to guide him to the gravesite despite her own melancholy. Bobby had earlier comforted him and Jess-being one of the few who knew Dean's true cause of death, and had mused that at least the end was no longer in sight, _though it had meant the loss of a friend and brother…_

Cas had been with Sam and Jess in the car, but had taken longer to leave. The angel hadn't said a single word aside from a string of 'sorry's when he had placed his head on Dean's box. It was clear that he felt guilty for not arriving in time, and while Sam knew he shouldn't blame the angel he still felt a small amount of anger and resentment over how close it had been…

The burial concluded with dirt being thrown over the grave, the epitaph seared into Sam's mind as he threw a clod onto the pile and walked away.

_Dean Henry Beretta_

_ January 24, 1979 – April 2, 2007_

_Carry on my wayward son__  
For there'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more_

When he got back to the car he slouched behind the wheel and placed his head on faux leather. He sighed as Jess sat down beside him, then Cas opened the back door and sat in the middle.

"I am going to go now."

"I figured you'd be leaving." Sam spat, _After all, you still have brethren in heaven to go back to-even if it is messed up right now._

And with that the angel disappeared from the backseat, leaving nothing behind but a slight sound of rustling feathers.


	50. July 24, 2007

**July 24, 2007**

Richard Carson was the fifth generation of his family to live on the same farm. Green Hills was a modest farm, at least by Kansas standards, and the 107 acres had been passed onto him many years prior when his older brother John had decided to move to the west coast in hopes of making it big. In all that time he'd dealt with a fair share of odd events. There'd been floods, insects, a fire or two, and even a freak chemical spill a few years prior. But never before had he seen this.

As if out of the Superman comics he'd read as a child a sudden bright white light streaked across the evening sky before he heard a deafening boom. Whatever it had been, it had landed somewhere in the east fields behind the barn. He quickly-_well as quickly as am 84 year old man can_-got dressed and walked out toward the smoke rising from the impact. He hadn't believed in aliens, but at the moment he was beginning to reconsider that view.

He walked through the high rows of corn toward the column of smoldering earth-the smell of singed soil and still lingering flames guided him toward the crater. It wasn't a pod with an infant; in fact it was a man. He was wearing a white shirt and dark slacks. If not for his appearance in the crater, and unnatural aura of bright white light surrounding him, Richard would have assumed him some sort of accountant. He seemed to be holding some sort of mass in his arms, concealed in a blanket.

The man turned toward him, and Richard immediately fell to his knees. "I don't know who or what you are, but please don't hurt me. I swear, I'm a good man, I've never done anything to hurt anyone…"

"That is true Richard Joseph Carson…" The man stated, the bright glow finally dissipating. "Forgive me for startling you. I am currently disoriented. Can you please direct me to Lawrence?"

"You're a bit of a drive. This is Tonganoxie…" He stuttered.

"That is fine. Do you have a map?"

Richard shook his head. "Not on me… I have one back at my house I can get."

"Thank you."

Twenty minutes later the strange man with the blanket had left with a page torn out of his atlas. Richard watched hesitantly as the man left, walking into the early morning.

**SPN**

It was nine when Sam heard a knock on the door. He'd been sleeping late-and so had Jess. Dean's death wasn't exactly great for Sam's mental state, but he'd kept up his training. Even if Bobby and Cas thought that this was all over Sam knew he had to keep strong, just in case anyone ever tried to hurt his loved ones ever again. Especially after Jess revealed she was pregnant.

The two were off for the summer, and Sam had taken to sleeping it. Less time awake meant less grieving-_not that his dreams were particularly comforting_-but when the knocking persisted he got up and went to the door. "One minute." He stated as he undid the latch and pulled the door open. In front of him was Castiel, cradling something wrapped in a blanket.

"Oh. It's you." Sam stated. "Nice to see you finally returned." He crossed his arms as he felt the venom beginning to build on his tongue. "I figured that after Dean died you no longer wanted to associate with us 'lesser beings'…" He scowled as he intended to continue, but the angel cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Sam, if you are going to yell at me for disappearing, let me make perfectly clear why you have not seen me. For the last _40 years_ I have been searching hell for your brother, avoiding the spawn who live there in the hopes that I might find him and rescue his soul. Despite my sigil he was still broken and beaten, I was unable to protect him." The angel looked incredibly guilty at this, shuffling his feet slightly, "But I found him. He was in the cage with Lucifer. I barely managed to get him out alive." Cas presented the bundle and removed the blanket from over the top half, unveiling a small boy in his arms. "I cannot reconnect his soul with his body. I have tried, but there is no vessel for him to return to. The cremation eliminated any hopes of having Dean as we knew him. For the time being, this is who he is." The small child had a large handmark seared onto his chest. It took up most of the three-year-old's body.

Sam was stunned into silence, watching the child's chest rise and fall slowly. "That's Dean?"

"It is his soul. He needs to rest for some time. Being placed in a vessel is an exhausting process."

"Wait, where did this body come from?" Sam withdrew his hand and looked at the angel.

"This boy was an orphan. He lived in a foster home in Texas and was on the verge of starvation when I found him. His soul is no longer in this body-he gave me permission to exchange his soul for Dean's. He is now in heaven." Cas looked intensely back at Sam. "I am aware of the needs to be careful in selection, my experience has humbled me in this capacity."

Sam nodded, accepting the answer. "So, will he remember me?"

"Yes. Your brother will remember everything of his former life when he awakens from this slumber."

Sam stepped aside and motioned for Cas to enter, the angel complied. He laid the sleeping child onto the sofa and sat beside him, gently caressing the red hair. "Your brother has a beautiful soul." Cas mused as Sam watched the odd display. "I have seen countless others before, but his is uniquely beautiful in its wavelength and color."

"Souls have colors?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Not unlike the 'aura' or 'chakra' that some faiths hold, souls have their own energy and colors. Your brother's is a beautiful green-not unlike his eyes." He looked up at Sam, smiling in a melancholy way, "Well, his eyes were…"

Sam nodded and decided to allow the angel a moment alone in peace before the inevitable bombardment began, so he stepped into the kitchen to make coffee before waking up Jess.

**SPN**

"How long has he been asleep?" Jess asked, glancing at the small form on her couch.

"Almost fifteen hours." Cas stated, a slight tension evident in the corner of his eyes.

"Hopefully he wakes up soon…" Sam frowned as he glanced at the clock, desperately wanting his brother back.

**SPN**

When Dean felt the plaid sofa underneath him he immediately knew it was a trap. _No… not again._ The demons had done this before, made him think it was a nightmare, that he had actually survived. They'd make him think everything was fine, have 'Sammy' or 'Cas' or someone else come out and act normal until one of the demons would appear and kill them. Their skin would bubble and melt, or they'd start spewing blood from their mouths… But the worst was when the demons forced him to kill them. They'd make him gut them, ripping out their insides until he was covered in blood and screaming to try and stop. But he couldn't, he never could. They forced him to do it until it all melted away and he was still stuck in the cage.

_This time I won't open my eyes. As long as I don't wake up I won't see anyone die, I won't kill anyone…_

"I think he's waking up…" a voice said. _Probably 'Jess', given how it sounded like a girl._

"His breathing is less steady now." 'Cas' observed. "Perhaps we should try to wake him."

_Like hell you will._ Dean scrunched his eyes tighter as he felt his body being lifted up off the couch and into an embrace.

"Hey Dean, wake up…" 'Sammy' said.

_Wait, Sammy's a gigantaur, but he can't pick me up… _Dean's eyes flicked open to see his brother cradling him, with Cas and Jess standing close-by. He wriggled to get free, "Let go of me! I'm not falling for it again, even if you all being giants is new!"

Cas' face fell as he realized the truth, "Sam, put him down."

Dean quickly rolled over and sat up to face the three.

"Dean, I understand you have been through a lot. I know what they did in hell. I saw it. I promise you I found you as fast as I could…" Cas' voice seemed on the verge of breaking as he continued, "But this is real. We are real…" He paused, before his face lit up, "Cinnamon!"

"Cinnamon?" Sam raised an eyebrow as he faced the angel.

"Yes, it's a word Dean and I devised to signify-"

"Nope!" Dean stated, quickly cutting off the angel. He glanced hesitantly at the others, _If it's fake they'll die soon and I'll be onto the next one. For now, fuck it. _He stood up and realized he was only up to the other's waists. "Why are you guys all twelve feet tall?"

"We aren't." Sam knelt down to his brother, "You're three feet tall."

"Yeah right." Dean crossed his arms, noticing that they seemed a lot less toned than he was used to. He quickly evaluated his body, discovering he was wearing a pair of underoos and somehow completely hairless. He inhaled sharply as he re-met Sam's gaze. "Why am I a toddler?!"

Sam stifled a laugh at the outburst, only earning a death glare from Dean. This in turn, did yield a quick chortle. Cas sighed as he sat to meet Dean eye-to-eye, "Your body was cremated, and as such, there was no way to return your soul to its proper vessel. This new vessel is the first vessel your body accepted. Prior to this I had tried three different adult men, but each time your soul seemingly refused."

Dean blinked, "So… I'm a kid again?"

"Yes."

"Well, this should be interesting…"

**SPN**

Dean was just as ravenous as a toddler as he had been as an adult, only the new body seemed pickier about what to eat than his old one. He clung to his former fiancée as the angel sat beside him at the table. As Jess sat down he caught a glint of gold. She was wearing a ring…

"Wait, are you two engaged?" Dean pointed at Jess' finger.

Sam smiled, blushing slightly, "Not quite…"

"Then what?"

"We're married." She responded.

"You guys got married without me?!" Dean stood up.

"Well, we didn't think you'd be back…" Sam stated, a darkness passing over his face. "When we found out Jess was pregnant we eloped, no one was invited-we just went to city hall and signed the papers in front of a justice. Mom and dad had a fit, but it was the best way to do it."

"This way no one feels like they took sides with the wedding, we saved money, and our child isn't stigmatized against by either of our families." Jess added.

Dean was silent before he nodded, "Alright, fine. But I better be the godfather."

Sam smiled, "I think we can do that."

**SPN**

"So, what about mom and dad?" Dean asked, hesitantly kicking the table.

"They don't know about the supernatural…" Sam began, "I don't know how'd they handle you being back from the dead."

"So what, we just lie and pretend I'm still in hell?" Dean crossed his arms.

Jess avoided his eyes as she looked at Cas, who cleared his throat, "Perhaps with time we can introduce them to the supernatural, but springing something like this upon them is certain to have an adverse reaction." Cas paused, "We don't want them to reject you."

Dean sighed, "Fine. But they're learning the truth."

"We will try our best to do so."

"So, for the time being, who am I staying with?" Dean glanced at the others. "Because I'm pretty sure your neighbors would question a random kid just showing up."

Sam frowned, "That would be a bit of a red flag."

"He could stay with me." Cas stated, "Provided there is somewhere for me to stay."

"You could go back to Dean's…" Sam paused, thinking of how he'd avoided the house that had become his because of the memories that had flooded him when he'd approached the door.

Dean glanced at Cas, "I suppose I could say that I was his father."

Dean smirked, "Well, you were always my _daddy_…"


	51. July 27, 2007

**July 27, 2007**

"Are you sure you can handle taking him shopping on your own?" Jess glanced at her phone as she tucked it into her purse, as she and Sam stood by the door. She was wearing her purple dress-a clear sign of the special occasion. It was their one month anniversary and Sam had gotten them a table for two at _The Ridgemont_, the nicest restaurant in town.

"I can always try to reschedule for later…" Sam added, worriedly eyeing his brother and Cas as the two sat on the sofa.

"We will be fine. Besides, Dean has assured me that it is exceedingly difficult to get seats at this restaurant and I do not want to cause you to lose your reservation. I am certain we can manage shopping on our own." Cas playfully ruffled the ginger hair of Dean's new vessel who swatted the hand away, Dean didn't mind affection, but being treated like a kid was the worst.

"Besides, I'm not actually three. I could handle shopping myself if I had to." Dean groused, more than slightly annoyed at being treated like a toddler for the last few days by his brother and sister-in-law.

"Okay… Well, promise you'll call if anything happens." Sam held up his phone. "I meant it."

"Alright, we get it. Now go-enjoy your lunch…" Dean shooed the two out the door and got down off the sofa and walked over to the window, climbing onto the ledge to see out as he watched their car pull out of the driveway. He got down and turned to Cas, "Alright, time to go shopping, because I am not going to wear this Osh-Kosh shit one more day…" He frowned as he gestured at his dinosaur t-shirt. Dean didn't hate dinos, but he sure as hell wasn't going to wear a shirt with them on it._ I'm not two, damnit._

**SPN**

The car seat was humiliating. Worse yet was the fact that he couldn't even see out the windows while he was in it, which meant he was stuck in the back as Cas attempted to make conversation over his shoulder. Thankfully the ride was short enough and soon the two were walking into the mall. Cas had offered to bring the stroller in case Dean's legs got tired-_Given how you are much shorter than I am-_but Dean had quickly shot that down.

Dean normally shopped at one of three men's stores for the stuff he didn't wear at work: Hershel's, R. R. Outdoorsman, or Pomeroy's. Unfortunately none of those stores stocked children's clothing, as the two had learned the hard way after searching all three and wasting a good 45 minutes. The closest he could manage to his usual fair was the children's rack at L. L. Bean. Granted, it was a bit preppier than he normally wore, but at least it still seemed decent enough-and nothing looked like it was for little kids. Dean turned to Cas, who was looking at a few shirts for himself, "I'm going to try this on now." Dean started pushing the cart with a half-dozen different outfits across the store before an employee wearing a pair of khakis and a button-down stopped him.

"Hey there little guy, you should probably make sure you're with your grown-up. Where're your parents?" The blonde crew-cut commented.

Dean huffed, realizing he had to act the part… "Daddy! Can you come with me so I can try on clothes?"

Cas looked over at Dean and the employee, it clicking that he had to act as a guardian to Dean in a much more literal sense than when they had both been adults. "Dean! Don't go off like that." He walked over to the clerk. "Thanks."

Dean muttered something about being humiliated as Cas took him into a changing room. The angel got a number from the clerk and walked back with Dean, handing him the clothes to try on as he waited outside the door. Dean slid off his shirt and eventually undid the overalls as he started with the new pile he'd picked, pulling out a pair of shorts. He struggled with the button, eventually pulling it open, and the zipper gave him just as much trouble-his body lacking the fine motor control he was used to. _Come on, it's a pair of shorts!_ He fussed for a good minute before he sighed and cracked the door to a waiting Cas. "Cas, I need help. I can't get them on myself."

Cas nodded and entered, helping Dean try on each pair and making piles as his fiancée commented which he liked. _Though_ _I am not sure whether I can consider him my fiancée, given the new vessel. I suppose for now he is just Dean, and for now I will help as I can._

**SPN**

Two hours later the clothes had had their tags snipped and had been through the wash, allowing Dean to finally dress himself in a way he liked-_even if it was a pain in the ass to get the clothes on_. Sam and Jess were still out-they had decided to add a movie after their lunch, which left Dean alone with Cas.

"Dean, can I ask you something?" The angel asked, and Dean immediately detected the slight crease in his forehead that meant worry.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Before this happened we were engaged. I had even bonded with you, though to bring you into your current vessel I had to bond again…" The angel seemed to shift slightly, and Dean guessed that he might be fidgeting with his wings, "But now with everything that is no longer an option."

"Yeah…" Dean exhaled as he sat beside Cas, "It isn't right now."

Cas' brow fluttered, "What do you mean?"

"Your vessel doesn't age because of your angel mojo, right?"

"Not 'mojo', but yes, you are correct…"

"Then I'll wait."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll wait." Dean restated, looking into the angel's eyes, "I mean, honestly I kinda want to be an adult again, and I'm going to bring that up to Bobby once Sam lets me call him… But even if somehow that curmudgeonly old hunter doesn't have some sort of ritual to make me 26 again, I'll wait for you."

Cas blinked, this was a level of devotion he had not yet encountered in his life. Yes his brethren had been devoted to him, but for a human-with such a fixed lifespan-being willing to wait just for him… "I… don't know what to say…"

"Say yes, because if I'm stuck waiting for 20 years you better still want me at that point." Dean half-joked.

The angel smiled as he hugged Dean, "I love you."

"I love you too-but like, to be clear, no romantic stuff until I'm out of the half-pint phase." Cas nodded. _Bobby you better have something because I don't want to have to go through puberty twice!_


	52. August 2, 2007

**August 2, 2007**

Bobby didn't have anything.

In fact, the hunter was flabbergasted at Dean's resurrection to the point he swore it had to be demonic until Cas proved that Dean was still Dean, albeit in a different vessel. After getting over the slight irritation of being informed after the others (_look, at the time I couldn't even reach the damn phone, so don't blame me…_), the hunter agreed to start looking into possible aging methods in order to get Dean back to adulthood. For the moment, he continued living with Cas as a three year old in his former-then current-home.

"So remind me again why you can't just have me change vessels? I mean, I'd take pretty much any guy as long as he's an adult. Being a kid sucks." Dean groused as Cas made dinner in the kitchen. Dean had normally done the cooking-_but given that I can't even reach the damn dials on the stove_-Cas had become the chef for the duo.

Cas sighed, "I understand your feeling. Vessels can be… difficult to get used to." He waved his hand as he attempted to explain, "After all, I am the size of your Chrysler building and have wings of holy light-yet I am contained within a mere six feet."

"Yeah, but at least you got to choose your vessel…" Dean pouted as he scribbled in his notebook. He could still read and research fine, but his fine motor skills were shit-_which means I have to use fucking 'my first ticonderogas' to write down anything…_

"As did you." Cas commented.

Dean snorted, which came out more like a sneeze from his toddler-sized frame, "As much as I love kids, I don't think I would've chosen this…" He scowled, "I can't drink, I can't drive, I can't have sex, and I can't even go out on my own!" He counted off the downsides on his fingers as he again picked up the drumstick sized pencil.

"I can attest-I tried three different adult male vessels, all in similar conditions, but your soul refused to enter. It wasn't until this vessel was presented that you agreed to settle." Castiel strained the macaroni as he added the alarmingly orange powdered cheese-type product.

Dean frowned, "Well I guess past me felt nostalgic for some reason." He shut the large leather book he'd borrowed from Bobby from their most recent teleported visit and placed it on the chair beside him along with his notebook.

Dean fussed through dinner, his new child palette refusing to enjoy anything that his former body had-_why the hell does everything taste awful except for hotdogs and mac-n-cheese?!_ And was glad when Cas allowed him to leave after only one serving of broccoli-even as an adult Dean hadn't been overly keen on eating his vegetables.

Sam and Jess were over after dinner and Dean was jealous-to say the least-when he saw the two kissing as they talked about their appointment at the OBGYN. "…which is when we felt her kick for the first time." Sam beamed, holding his hand over Jess' slight baby bump. "Do you want to feel?" He asked the two.

Cas nodded and walked over, placing his hand gently on her blouse. He smiled as he felt the warmth of the healthy soul, along with the slight stirring his touch created, "She is a wonderful child. She will be very spirited." Cas gently removed his hand, the wavelength still familiar to his touch. "I can say that she takes after both of you. Her soul is nearly lilac, a combination of your navy and rose hues…"

Sam raised an eyebrow before Dean explained grumpily, "Cas can feel souls, it's an angel thing. Apparently the best way to describe them is using colors, giving that they are wavelengths like light."

Jess straightened slightly in amusement, "So, which one of us is which? Am I the navy or rose?"

Cas blushed slightly, having made himself the center of attention unintentionally, "You are navy-dark and rich, complex and beautiful." He turned to Sam, "You are rose-a light and comfort to those around you. Even with your demonic attachment you are still quite pure in spirit."

Sam nodded as his face darkened into worry, "Wait… you said she is a combination of both of us."

"Yes. Which is honestly a rarity, frequently families are quite different, which may explain why so many diverse personalities exist in singular lineages."

"Is she _like_ me?" Sam glanced at Jess' midsection.

Cas tilted his head slightly, "Well, she is your offspring."

"No." Sam anxiously picked at his jeans, "I mean, does she have… y'know…" He looked down, ashamed.

Cas' eyes registered clarity as he understood, "No. She is pure. Your attachment is not hereditary. The vessels are chosen through a method even I fail to understand, and while your family may hold great significance, your children will not have the demonic ties."

Sam's face relaxed, as did Jess-who up to that point hadn't thought of that frightening possibility.

Dean was bored and tired of everyone else talking and ignoring him. Whether it was the impulse control that came with a brain wired for a three year old, or the built up frustration from being crammed into a toddler's body and seemingly no one caring… he burst, "It's not fair! Why do you guys get to be happy and normal and I'm stuck like this?!" He flopped to the floor as he sprawled out his arms and legs. "I wanna be a grown up again! I hate being three!"

Cas blinked at the display, unsure of how to react. Sam and Jess couldn't help but fail to contain laughter at the tantrum. As Dean continued to flail and repeat the same two sentences Sam sat down next to his brother, waiting for the tyke to run out of energy.

"Do you think you need a glass of water and to go to bed?" Sam asked the red-faced and panting tyke.

Dean nodded, quickly realizing he'd had his first temper tantrum in decades. "I'm sorry… I…"

"It's okay. Believe me. I get what it's like to be frustrated because of your body." Sam flicked his wrist, causing a couch cushion to flop to the floor. "Let's get you settled."

Dean was in his pajamas in bed shortly afterward. Sam promised to try and do some digging on an aging spell, and he and Jess left shortly afterward. After Dean fell asleep Cas poked his head into the bedroom, looking in at the very small body in the very large bed. It was still Dean, but if he was not comfortable with this they would fix it-_somehow_.


	53. August 14, 2007

**August 14, 2007**

Dean allowed his head to hit the table with an audible 'whump'. It had been nearly two weeks and the man-trapped-in-a-toddler's-body was still without any solid leads on raising his age. He had already exhausted all the websites he could find on the occult and rituals, but none of them had anything useful-_not only did they lack aging spells, but Bobby shot down most of the others as pure nonsense._ Cas had diligently been back and forth to Bobby's getting books for him and the others to read. Sam and Jess hadn't found anything, and Dean was nearly hopeless and thought that perhaps he would have to age the old-fashioned way.

Sam had managed to find a few valid de-aging spells, as had Dean and Cas, but given that it was the opposite of what Dean needed it wasn't promising. Apparently most people didn't want to get older all in an instant. When Dean shut another useless book he heard the phone ringing in the living room. Cas was still busy in the kitchen making lunch, so Dean decided to grab it.

"I'll get it." He stated as he slid the chair out and scooted down onto the floor. He didn't remember being this age in his past life, but he could certainly say it was annoying living in a world designed for people much larger than yourself. He could barely reach the counters in the kitchen, and while being able to actually take a bath in the five-foot tub was nice, not reaching the showerhead to adjust it was more than a drawback. He grabbed the phone off the dock and pushed in the green 'Accept Call' button.

"Hello?" He responded, the caller ID only said 'Unlisted'.

"Hey Dean." Bobby's voice rang out.

"Please tell me you have good news." Dean walked back toward the dining room and sat down with the phone on speaker, pulling out a blank sheet of paper to take notes on.

"Maybe…" The hunter hesitantly replied.

"Define 'maybe'." Dean retorted.

"Well, I found something but I normally wouldn't go for it."

"Why not?"

"Blood magic isn't the kind of thing you want to mess with. Especially when it specifies the blood of a virgin drawn on the full moon. That shit is the road to all sorts of bad mojo." Bobby responded, huffing slightly.

Dean's brow furrowed, "Well, I'm a virgin, kind of… At least, my vessel is. How much blood are we talking?"

"Dean, I think you're missing the point."

"Look, if it's only a little I can manage. I've given blood before."

Bobby sighed. "Fine. _If_-and it's a big if-we do it there's a bunch of other shit I have to do first."

"Talk me through it. I bet it won't be too bad."

"Really?" Bobby intoned, "I'll give you the cliff notes version. Person wanting to change their age-and it specifies up or down-comes up to a platform, which I'd have to build. They draw a sigil on their chest in virgin's blood-which would be yours-and repeat an incantation in the light of the full moon. You then take more of the blood and 'anoint' a holy sigil-some sort of pendant that looks like a man with horns-and that completes the spell."

"Aside from the blood and platform that doesn't sound terrible." Dean commented, weighing the option against remaining a toddler.

"And there's a catch, of course, if at any time the necklace comes off you return to your original age. If you put it back on, nothing happens, and the ritual only works the one time."

"So I'd have to wear this necklace for the rest of my life?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Dean looked at Cas, who had overheard most of the conversation. "What do you think, Cas?"

"I think that if it will make you happy to be an adult it may be worth the risk, though I would like to see the instructions first. I am not familiar with all the ways of your world's magic, but I can identify a spell designed to bind ones soul in a negative way." Cas stated.

"Alright. Next time you zap in I'll show you."

"Thanks Bobby." Dean replied before hanging up the phone.

**SPN**

"How do you think you will break to your parents everything that has happened?" Jess asked, sitting on the sofa looking at the two brothers as they attempted to figure out how to set up the contrived board game that Sam had gotten as a Christmas gift from Jess' brother.

"I'm not sure… I guess we start by explaining Dean." Sam noted.

"Though it might be a bit of a tough sell that I'm actually their formerly deceased son." Dean sighed as he tried to figure out where the spinner was supposed to sit.

"What about Cas and everything-and Sam's, y'know…" Jess added. "I mean, I barely believe it and I lived through a good chunk of it."

"I guess we just tell them the truth and try to show as much as we can to prove it." Sam noted.

"They raised us, I know they'll see it eventually… Even if they don't at first." Dean nervously rubbed his arm.

"In any case, let's drop the doom and gloom and get a game started." Sam stated, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm red."

"No way! I'm always red!" Dean stamped his foot.

"Older brother is red. You always say that."

"I am older!"

"Not anymore." Sam smirked.

Dean huffed as he silently vowed get his body back…


	54. August 28, 2007

**August 28, 2007**

Because Cas couldn't easily zap himself and three others to Bobby's and back in a timely manner (apparently there was some sort of recharge period that bringing along guests conferred), the four were together in the Impala as they drove to Bobby's. Using the car had been Dean's idea. After his death Bobby had given it to Sam-after explaining the significance-and the younger Beretta had kept it safe and sound in the garage the following months. Not only was it larger-and therefore more comfortable-than either of the other two options, it was also substantially less offensive to Dean's tastes in automotives.

That being said, the ride wasn't perfect. Dean stared out the window, sulking slightly that he had to sit in a booster seat. "I mean, come on, can't I just sit on the seat? When this thing was built nobody used stupid car seats!"

Sam rolled his eyes and glanced in the mirror, it was a more than slightly humorous sight watching his brother pout as a toddler. "It's to keep you safe if we get in an accident. Besides, this thing doesn't have airbags or anything, so if you were just loose on the seat you could fly through the windshield or smash into the dash."

Dean rolled his eyes back and huffed, "Are we there yet?"

"Oh no, we are not doing that." Sam replied. "Just read a book or something, we're over halfway there and I'm not going to hear you bitch just because you don't like sitting in a car-seat."

**SPN**

By the time they arrived at Bobby's it was already nearing dusk. The older man had managed to accomplish all that he needed for the ritual-a sturdily constructed platform sat in the rear of the house along with a bowl and knife. Dean had been given the incantation to practice a few days before, with Bobby having written the phonetic pronunciation underneath (which helped given that the former schoolteacher had no idea what Aramaic sounded like). Sam had proven helpful with the practice as well, helping clarify where Dean had to stress the words. Thankfully the ritual didn't forbid the sheet, which took a great deal of pressure off of Dean.

As Sam turned the engine off and stepped out of the car, Jess turned toward the back seat where a quiet Cas and Dean were sitting side by side. "Are you sure you want to do this? This magic stuff is supposedly pretty scary, especially given the translation of that incantation…"

Dean looked over at Cas, who while remaining neutral to the others, was clearly stressed in Dean's eyes, "I know the risks, but I have to do this."

"Okay." She nodded quietly as Cas undid Dean's seat and helped him out of the car.

"Hey Bobby." Dean commented, looking up at the man standing in front of him.

"Hey Dean." He paused, looking down at the small boy, "Everything should be ready in about an hour."

"Good." Dean nodded, solemn at the approaching moment.

The hour passed and soon Dean was standing on the platform naked-_because my clothes would literally rip off of me and I can't just guess what adult size I'm going to be-_holding the knife and sheet of paper with the incantation. Cas worriedly watched from the side. "Please be careful."

"I will, I promise." Dean nodded and cut his palm, allowing blood to trickle down into the bowl. When there was enough Cas stepped forward and bandaged his hand, then returned to the side, watching as Dean drew the shape on his chest then began the incantation. As he spoke the sigil began to glow a bright white on his chest, the light becoming blinding as he finished the final line of the spell. It continued to glow, engulfing him entirely as he took some of the blood and dipped the sigil into it. Then, like a flashbulb exploding the light burst, leaving an adult form with the necklace standing where the child form once was.

Bobby blinked, turning back toward the platform after having to shield his eyes. The trio on the ground glanced upward to see an adult standing where the toddler had once been. After a towel quickly provided by Jess-for modesty-they took a better look.

Dean didn't look like he had before. For one thing he was a fair bit shorter, coming only up to Cas' chin. He was still the same light tan complexion he'd been as an adult before, but with far more freckles and a copious amount of bright red body hair-enough that the large handprint was covered on his chest and barely visible. Apparently the ritual aged you through your years all at once, because Dean was sporting two decades worth of hair growth, with a beard and long curly red hair. The amber eyes from his toddler form were still present, but they sported small creases underneath.

Cas blinked as he looked at Dean, unsure of how to react. While not normally emotional, it looked as if he'd short circuited trying to process how he felt at the new Dean in front of him. That is, until Dean nearly tackled the angel in a hug. "Oh my GOD it is good to be an adult again!" Dean coughed, quickly pecking Cas on the cheek, "Huh, so this is my voice now… I sound like a 50s radio announcer."

Cas immediately began blushing as Dean smiled, "Yes… It is quite distinctive…"

Dean waggled his eyebrows, apparently having forgotten the other three until his brother cleared his throat, "We're still here."

Dean immediately took a half step back and looked down at the others, a bright red spreading from his cheeks.

"I'm glad to have you back as an adult, but I'm even more glad that it worked." Sam commented. "Let's promise to both stop getting messed up by the supernatural for a while, okay?"

"Agreed." Dean nodded as he realized just how long his hair was as his beard brushed across his chest. "Hey Bobby, you got a pair of scissors?"

**SPN**

Two hours and sixteen minutes later Dean had finished his fifth round with Cas and was more than happy to be an adult. He flexed a muscle-which thankfully was close enough to his original vessel's-as he leaned back on Cas' chest. He'd quickly gotten his hair back to its normal length, but he'd decided to try a beard for once, given how nicely this one had grown in without any of the usual headaches and patchiness he'd been used to. "So, what do you think of the new me?" Dean smiled cheekily-surprised at a slight upgrade below the belt that had come with his new vessel.

Cas looked at Dean's eyes-their new golden amber shimmering in the moonlight that filtered through the window-and smiled. "I think you are perfect, regardless of the vessel in which your soul resides."

Dean rolled his eyes, "I always forget how cheesy you sound when you get all sincere…" He smiled, "But thank you. For everything."

The angel smiled as he ran his fingers through Dean's hair. _It is different, but perfect still._


	55. September 8, 2007

**September 8, 2007**

**Author's Note**

This is it! The final chapter before the epilogue! I just wanted to thank everyone who has read and reviewed up to this point! Once the last chapter of this is posted I will begin posting two different stories. First is "True Legacy", which is a Harry Potter fic set in an alternate universe (please don't kill me-I swear I try to keep characterization consistent, but it has been a bit since I've read the books); the second is "New Perspective", a shorter Supernatural piece. Because of all the "free time" lately (_thanks a lot COVID…_) I've also gotten an itch for another story I've been outlining, which if it turns into something will be out after "New Perspective" and likely concurrent in release with "True Legacy" later on (given its current, and ever-growing, length). But enough of me, let's get back to the story!

**SPN**

"Massachusetts has long been known for its New England charm and rugged beauty. The historical George's Inn in Concord has long been a destination for visitors who seek out the significance of early America…" Sam read as he flipped over to the second page of the brochure. Jess was sitting next to him on the flight half-listening. While the morning sickness had stopped, motion sickness coupled with a somewhat compromised composure on account of her pregnancy had led the blonde to become air sick much easier than normal. While it hadn't resulted in any actual vomiting, she was quite nauseous.

In front of them Cas and Dean were also seated side by side. Cas held the ginger-haired man's hand as he tapped his leg anxiously. Despite everything Dean continued to remain nervous when flying. _Well, flying in airplanes. _Dean turned to his soon-to-be-husband and was greeted with a warm smile. "It's okay. I'm here, I've got you." Cas reassured him. Dean breathed more steadily and tried to calm down.

The flight was nearly over, but still… "Thanks."

"It's what I'm here for." Cas nodded, which was the truth. The angel had initially come to help Dean overcome his past and be ready for the apocalypse as a vessel. While the second half of his objective had been discarded, the first remained. Dean had also adopted a similar role, assisting him with adjusting to human life and helping him realize that while heaven might be perfect, his brethren were still flawed, and he needed to learn to trust more in himself. _It was certainly a beautiful coincidence in how the two had complimented each other's needs. It was no wonder their bond was strong already._

An hour later the plane landed and the five disembarked. Dean had tried to reach out to his parents, sending notes explaining the situation and trying to work toward telling them the whole truth, but for the time being they had been skeptical at best and outright mean at worst when he tried to contact them. _Give them time and it will come._ Bobby had said, and the others reassured him that, yes, with time they might accept the new Dean-and the supernatural world that came with it. But for now he wasn't going to put his life on hold again. He'd already died once; he intended to live his life as best as he could in the moment. If that meant getting married without his parents there, so be it.

**SPN**

The next morning Dean and Cas were in rooms on opposite sides of the hotel. They'd already booked the inn for that afternoon, which meant there were only a few short hours until the ceremony. Dean was more than a little anxious. While cognitively he knew that Sam was handling everything just fine (as Dean and Cas had made a more than ample checklist for him to do) with the set up, _I'm still fucking terrified…_

He heard a knock on the door of his room, "Cas, if it's you, remember what I said, it's bad luck to see each other before the ceremony!" He called back, anxiously fiddling with his suit. The dark crimson blazer hung well on his frame. The new body was quite a bit shorter than the one buried in Lawrence. He was only 5'8, though thankfully he was at least still physically fit. Dean was still in his socks, and had to figure out how to tie a bow-tie and put on the cummerbund (_heh, cummerbund, focus Dean!_). While not a traditional wedding color, neither groom had decided to wear the standard black tuxedo. It was fitting, _After all this isn't exactly a normal wedding…_

"No, it's me." Bobby called from outside the door.

"Okay, come in." Dean responded, turning to face the door. Bobby entered and Dean nearly smirked. He'd never seen the older man dressed formally, let alone in a suit and tie. He and Cas had agreed to have Bobby and Sam as their groomsmen, and that Bobby would walk Dean down the aisle during the ceremony. _Because if my actual dad can't be here, I might as well have the next closest thing._

"How're ya feeling?" Bobby asked, noting how Dean's once slicked back hair had begun to frazzle.

Dean exhaled, "Honestly? Nervous as hell. Like, super, super, nervous." He paused, "I mean, I know Cas is the one-the only guy, or angel I guess-I can even imagine living with for the rest of my life…"

"But you're still worried about how it's all going to go down?" Bobby guessed as he sat on the edge of one of the mattresses and motioned for Dean to sit on the other.

"Yeah." Dean sighed as he flopped on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling.

Bobby smiled, "You know I was married once, right?"

"Yeah, I saw a few pictures around the house and put two and two together." Dean stated, leaning up on an elbow to look more at Bobby.

"That was Karen. She was beautiful. I loved her with damn near all my heart." He inhaled, trying to contain the swelling emotions rising to the surface, "When I lost her I felt like I had nothing left to live for for the longest time…"

Dean nodded.

Bobby shook his head, "But more importantly, even though I loved her that much I still was terrified when we got married. I actually almost broke it off the day before. I thought I wasn't good enough for her, and I was terrified that I'd end up losing her somehow. But I didn't. While we didn't have much time together, it was still a good time. When I see the way you and Cas look at each other, it reminds me of how I used to look at Karen. I know you two are right for each other, so calm down. I promise everything is going to be just fine."

"Thanks Bobby," Dean smiled, "I really needed that."

"Well if you don't mind I have to get going, your idjit brother called and said he needs help with something. But don't worry, it's nothing major. Just keep your ass here and we'll come and get you when we're ready for the ceremony."

**SPN**

When Dean was a kid and pictured his wedding it certainly wasn't this. For one thing, at the time he assumed he was going to marry a woman. He'd watched his parents wedding tape every year at their anniversary when mom would put it in the VCR and dad would joke about how each year he kept looking worse while she stayed the same. He always assumed his wedding would be like theirs, he'd wear a suit and get married in a church-probably the nice Catholic church in Lawrence, St. Joseph's, with the fancy organ and stained glass. There'd be all his friends and relatives, and Sam wouldn't be married yet (_Because of course the older brother always gets married first_)…

And while everything was different than what he expected, it was even better than what he'd hoped for. As Bobby walked him down the aisle of the small parlor at the inn he smiled at the few present. Sam was standing beside Cas up front, while Jess sat in the first (and only) row. The officiate wasn't a priest, but rather a preacher from a United Church of Christ in town (one of the few branches that openly supported gay marriage), but he still looked the part with the traditional clerical collar and white robes. Dean didn't pay too much attention to the words the man spoke during the ceremony; he was too busy looking at Cas to hear anything else. Eventually the time came to exchange vows.

Cas spoke first, "Dean. I want to begin by saying how fortunate I am to have met you. In all my years I have never encountered someone as pure of soul and spirit as you are. You are kind and faithful to those you encounter, not to mention fiercely loyal and willing to defend those in need. When we first met we were quite different than we are now, but I know that no matter what may lie ahead, I want to be by your side."

Dean smiled, allowing his eyes to water briefly before he cleared his throat and began, "Cas, you know I've never been one for 'chick-flick' moments, but given that this is our wedding I figure I can let it slide… When I first met you I thought you were a dream, you were too perfect to be real. I swore I could never do or say anything to be good enough for you. But that didn't matter. You loved me regardless, even after everything that happened you sat down and helped piece me back together. You have helped me so much and I only hope to repay the favor in time. I love you, and I cannot wait to be your husband."

The rings were exchanged and a kiss sealed the ceremony. Bobby and Sam joined in a group hug, allowing Jess to also hug from the side (so as to accommodate her growing mid-section). There was cake and chatting, and an altogether good time. As Dean looked at his husband he realized something.

"Wait, you don't have a last name, do you?" He followed as Cas led in a slow dance.

"No, not one that is expressed in human tongue at least."

"Hmmm… well, we are married, and since I'm not Dean Beretta anymore it makes sense that I take whatever your last name is." Dean pondered, motioning with his head that he certainly wasn't the same person as before.

Sam overheard as he danced with Jess and commented from across the parlor, "Why not D'Angelo? You are from an angel, after all."

"Dean D'Angelo. Not a huge fan of alliteration, but you know what, I think it works." Dean smiled as he leaned in and kissed his husband again. He leaned in to whisper, "I can think of something Mr. D'Angelo wants to do… and it involves getting you out of that stuffy navy blazer."

Cas blushed as Dean smirked, the two enjoying another dance as Jess drug Bobby onto the floor and insisted he dance with her.


	56. January 5, 2008

**January 5, 2008 **

"Holly, calm down sweetie…" Jess gently rocked the new-born as she walked out of the living room. The pink bundle refused to let up, which meant that the brief nap that had afforded her and Sam the time to talk with their guests was ended. Jess poked her head back into the living room, "I think she needs a feeding and maybe a change. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"You sure? I don't mind getting this one." Sam commented, mentally going over the checklist on how to prepare the formula.

"No." Jess shook her head, "You got all last night. I'll get this one and try to have her settle back down. Maybe she'll do better in her crib than the playpen."

"Okay." Sam nodded as she carried the baby away. He sighed, then turned back to their guests. " So, how's everything been with the new jobs?"

"Pretty good. Thank God that Bobby knows a guy who can fabricate backgrounds." Dean replied, "I definitely didn't feel like going back to college." He smiled as he nudged Cas, "And softee over here is suddenly everyone's favorite ESL teacher."

"I will admit that many of the students like me, but Ms. Jefferson is just as beloved." Cas stated, blushing slightly at the open compliment. Dean had been getting more forward with open acts of romance with Cas, _After all, we are married, it makes sense that I act like it…_

"I guess knowing every human language makes it easy to translate." Sam smirked, thinking of the tight-collared Cas surrounded by a group of seven year olds.

"It does make the job quite easy. Though the children are also a benefit. They truly are gifts from God, it is easy to forget that sometimes."

"Just wait a few years, I'm sure you'll have a fair share of devils among them." Dean reflected on past classes where it seemed every year there were at least one or two troublemakers. Wilson Elementary was no different, even if it was in a different part of Lawrence than his old school.

Cas huffed, firm in his belief that all children were good-_it was endearing, the naivety_.

Jess returned a moment later carrying a baby monitor. "She's down. Hopefully she stays down until at least dinner. We've been trying to get her on a schedule but it's been challenging to say the least."

"Only two more months, according to Doctor Schwartz." Sam added. "You two are lucky you don't have kids yet. Holly's great, but I miss sleeping."

"I could sacrifice a few hours for a kid. After all, I'm already damn near addicted to coffee." Dean commented. Cas turned to face him with a strange look for a moment before turning back to the group as the conversation continued. Sam was up for a promotion at work and Jess was using the time off with Holly to study for next semester (using the semester off to try and get ahead so when she returned she would be able to continue without issues). Dean commented on teaching fourth grade and the evening eventually ended with goodbyes and promises to see each other the next day in the afternoon.

As Dean pulled the Impala out of the drive to return home Cas turned to him. "Were you serious with your statement earlier about children?"

Dean raised an eyebrow as he thought, focusing on the road ahead, "Which one? We talked a lot about kids tonight."

"The one where you mentioned that you would be willing to be a father…" Cas trailed off, hoping that he hadn't misread the casual reference earlier.

Dean was quiet a moment before he responded, "Well, yeah, I've always wanted to have kids. I never really thought too much about it after, well, everything turned out the way it did with me being gay. But, yeah, I'd love being a dad."

Cas nodded, "If you could be a father you would?"

"Yeah, but it's damn near impossible to adopt when you aren't a straight white couple. Most agencies are selective about who they work with, and even if they won't say it a lot of them don't want to work with gays or people of color. There are some that do work specifically for those groups, but there's none anywhere around here-Kansas isn't exactly friendly toward that kind of mentality." Cas was quiet as Dean sighed and looked forward. "Sorry to bring the mood down. Tonight was nice, it was good to see Sam and Jess. And for now we're uncles to Holly, maybe we'll have kids one day, but for now at least we have her."

"Yes, and she is wonderful. Perhaps we could get her some new clothes. I noticed that she only had a few outfits in the next size up when I went in to look at her before we left."

"Sounds like a plan." Dean smiled, "After all, that's the best part about being an uncle, all the perks of being around without the stress of full-time parenting."

**SPN**

It was nearly eleven when the two got into bed. Dean set down his book as Cas came in from the bathroom. "You know, it's amazing how in two years my life has completely changed… When I first took Sammy to that psychic I thought she was nuts about the supernatural. Now I'm married to an angel." Dean smirked, "Maybe I should call her up and apologize, I never did get around to telling her she was right. I bet she'd like you, angel thoughts must be a hell of a thing to listen to." Cas suddenly appeared as if he had a realization. "What?" Dean asked, sitting up.

"Are you referring to a woman named Missouri?"

"Yeah, when Sam first started and had his visions I took him there to try to have her tell him that the supernatural wasn't real and that he was normal-goes to show how wrong I was…"

"Dean, I've already met her…"

"Really? When?"

"Shortly before you went to visit her the first time I was tasked with meeting her by my brethren and telling her that you and your brother may be on the way." Dean nodded, knowing that the angels had a tendency to over-plan. "As it would transpire humans are incapable of handling angelic thoughts… while she survived her vision was permanently affected."

"Wait, angel thoughts made her blind?" Dean was incredulous.

"Yes… I attempted to restore her sight but could not manage at the time. Perhaps another visit might prove useful to try and correct my error."

"Sure, how about we go first thing tomorrow. But for now, there's something else I want to look at…" Dean smiled as he turned off the light, snuggling in and beginning to undo his pajamas.

_Life may not be as we anticipate, but even with the ever changing world around us we are capable of overcoming. As we move beyond our past we find our true selves, and when we are unafraid of who we are, that is when we are able to find true happiness._

**The End**


End file.
